Predictions, Misconceptions, and Transfigurations
by mascaret
Summary: Complete...ish. The life of Minerva McGonagall told through a series of different perspectives, but never her own. Warning: LONG this segment is merely the preamble. Begins post OOTP from HP's perspective, but soon delves into the past & other perspective
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note  
  
This is my first fan fiction. I never managed to find a beta reader so please be gentle on spelling and grammar criticisms. If you would like to be my Beta please leave a message in feedback. The next five chapters are just waiting on someone to proofread them.  
  
And yes I know this story is centered on Minerva McGonagall, but she doesn't appear to the second chapter.  
  
Predictions, Misconceptions, and Transfigurations  
  
Harry awoke with a start. As he turned to his bedside table for his glasses, the eerie green glow of his alarm clock revealed the late hour.  
  
Glancing about the moonlight filled room, he could pick out Hedwig asleep in her cage, head tucked under a wing. The owl cage rested atop his trunk. After their meeting with Mad Eye Moody, his aunt and uncle had reconsidered their opposition to keeping his school items in his room. The ready availability of his books had been a great change over the previous summers, but in the two weeks he had been at Privat Drive, he hadn't felt much like starting his summer work.  
  
The change in attitude by his relatives unfortunately did not extend much past his trunk and owl. Though the door was no longer kept locked, by unspoken agreement Harry remained in his room most of the day. His meals were delivered to his room and though they were barely palpable they always arrived on a regular schedule and in decent amounts. No longer did he receive a list of chores to complete each morning. The flowers and shrubs were certainly looking worse for the lack of their usual care, but the few times Harry had passed his Uncle Vernon in the hall not a word was spoken. Dear Ickle Diddykins spent ever waking moment away from 4 Privat Drive and more often than not nights would find him sleeping at the residence of one of his gang. When Aunt Marge had telephoned to arrange a visit, she had been quite astonished to hear Vernon's response, "Now is not a goodtime!" before he abruptly hung up.  
  
Not that Harry really found any of this something to complain about. Still thinking about the events of a month ago, Harry had no real interest in interaction, particularly not with any of the Dursleys. The memory of events in the Department of Mysteries and later in Dumbledore's office still weighed heavily in his mind. Sirius -  
  
  
  
-Turning his thoughts back to the present, Harry wondered what could have woken him. Tentatively he reached up to the scar on his forehead. Often, especially the last year he had been awakened by a searing pain from tormented dreams. There was no pain and he could not remember even fragments of a dream this night. Pulling his wand out from under his pillow, he continued his survey of the room.  
  
Looking to his door, he noticed it was partially open. Harry tensed knowing that was certainly not the way he had left it.  
  
"Lumos." From the light of his wand he could see the hallway.  
  
Out of the darkness a masculine voice called out triumphantly, "Potter is in this room!"  
  
The door opened further, but still Harry saw no one. The slight rustling of material approaching reminded Harry of his own invisibility cloak. Harry flicked his wand in the area of the door and with all his adrenalin filled force, shouted "Stupefy!"  
  
Not sure what was happening, Harry rose from his bed to examine the single leg and two feet now visible under the hem of what clearly had to be an invisibility cloak.  
  
Harry whirled back around, wand at the ready, as sounds of mingled laughter filled his doorway.  
  
"Constant vigilance Potter. That's what I like to see." said Mad Eye Moody. As Moody stepped out the doorway to examine the form on the ground, Harry caught sight of his former professor Remus Lupin, Mundungus Fletcher, Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt.  
  
"As Lupin moved forward to embrace Harry, Tonks flashed Harry a smile. "Nice work Harry." she grinned.  
  
Suddenly with all the people in the room Harry was rather glad he had fallen asleep in his day clothes.  
  
"Think someone should have mentioned to him we were here last year and already knew which room was Harry's?" asked Mundungus motioning to the now uncovered young man.  
  
"Nah." shrugged a new figure. "Boy's got to learn if he is going to be an auror." Meeting Harry's gaze, the silver haired man lifted his hat in greeting. "Loki is the name. And that over there-"  
  
"Invigorate." interrupted Moody.  
  
-"Is Malone McGonagall."  
  
"Oh" said Harry, turning to follow in the direction the other man pointed. "Hello then.. pleased to meet you. Err- look I'm real sorry about stunning you and all, but you should have identified yourself or something." said Harry suddenly concerned he might have unintentionally done some serious damage. "I mean if you're an auror, you really should know better that that."  
  
"Right. Now lets stop all the talking and get this boy packed and out of here." said Moody. "And why are you still on the floor?"  
  
"We are leaving? Asked Harry excited for the first time since arriving at his relatives. "For the summer?"  
  
"Aye. Now you off the floor." growled Moody.  
  
"Right. Sorry just I've never seen a floor quite like this one - It's quite exciting."  
  
After flashing an odd look at Moody, Tonks reached out a hand to help Malone up.  
  
"Now as we are short a few invisibility cloaks -"  
  
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Malone warned Tonks.  
  
"We're going to use invisibility potion." continued Moody.  
  
As Tonks yanked him a jar fell out of her cloak pocket and shattered. Harry blinked. The floor and most everyone's feet had disappeared.  
  
"Or not." finished Moody.  
  
"Well, I didn't see it before, but I must agree the floor is certainly looking exciting now." said Lupin with a wink to Harry.  
  
Malone glared at Lupin. "Why don't you keep your filthy mouth closed."  
  
Moody in turn glared at Malone. "You do know I brought you here to warn us about things like that."  
  
"I did warn you."  
  
"Try and be a bit more forceful next time would you." Moody sighed. Turning to the carpet he barked, "What are you doing?"  
  
Harry looked. Now Tonks was on the ground - or at least where the ground should be - rolling.  
  
"Trying to get invisible."  
  
Harry couldn't help but laugh and soon all of the others with the exception of Moody were laughing too. Tonks had succeeded in becoming invisible, but only in parts. Most of her back was gone, one of her hands, the other arm to the elbow, and bits of her hair.  
  
As the laughter died down, Lupin turned to Harry. "I've put a sleep enchantment on the others in the house so as not to frighten them with al the noise." Lupin paused for a moment to stare pointedly at Tonks who stuck her fully visible tongue out in response. "Rather than wake them, perhaps it would be best if you left them a note explaining your absence."  
  
Harry nodded and tore off a scrap of parchment to compose his letter as the others moved about packing his trunk for him. Staring at the page for a few moments unsure exactly what to write, Harry finally settled on a simple Gone for the summer.  
  
Lupin released Hedwig. After shrinking the empty owl cage, he added it to the pocket already containing Harry's trunk. "Anything else you'll be needing from here?"  
  
"Definitely not."  
  
"Let's get moving then." said Moody leading the way to the stairs. "Keep three in front and three behind Potter . One below him, but not while on the stairs obviously. We are short cloaks so Potter will wear his own, Lupin takes mine, Tonks my spare, and Loki will turn himself invisible.  
  
"Why don't you use that charm you used on me last summer?" asked Harry.  
  
Moody paused a moment to think before replying, "Don't ask so many questions."  
  
"Myself, Lupin, and Shacklebolt in front of Harry to start with, Loki beneath, the rest covering the rear. We will fly in circles around Potter. Invisible people move clockwise in a small circle. Visible go counterclockwise in a slightly wider circle so we don't collide."  
  
Moody continued explaining his rather involved and sometimes contradictory strategy as they made their way to the front door.  
  
"Stay in formation no matter what, but keep moving. And every so often on my signal everyone will change the direction of their circle. Keep the enemy guessing. I want a human wall around Potter. If we get attacked, Potter and the other invisibles keep moving and try to get away. The rest of us are expendable - your mission is to safely deliver Potter for the Wizengot. No heroics."  
  
From under his cloak, Harry realized he had never asked why they had come for him now. He had just assumed he was going to Ron's house or the Order headquarters.   
  
After last summer's experience with the Wizengot, he was more than a bit hesitant. Thinking back, he certainly couldn't recall having done anything noticeable by Ministry standards in the last two weeks. He hadn't received so much as a warning from Mafalda Hopkirk much less formal charges. Given how Fudge and Umbridge had tried to railroad him last summer by changing his hearing time without notice, he wouldn't be at all surprised if they tried and convicted him of some trumped-up charges before notifying him this time.  
  
"I haven't done anything. What are the charges against me?"  
  
"Not to worry Harry," said Lupin. "You are not on trial."  
  
"In times like these, a little paranoia is not a bad thing." commented Moody.  
  
Shooting Moody a dark look, Lupin continued. "Most of the Death Eaters you and your friends caught in the Department of Mysteries pleaded guilty, but Malfoy is demanding a full trial with witnesses against him present."  
  
"But you were there. You saw what happened. He was captured in the Department of Mysteries. How can Malfoy possibly hope to get out of it?" Harry felt his rage and panic growing at the thought of Lucius Malfoy escaping punishment again after what had happened to his godfather.  
  
"Not to worry Harry. Not even Lucius can bribe or threaten his way out of what he has done." assured Lupin. He tried to lay a hand on Harry's shoulder but swiped empty air near Harry instead.  
  
Aye." agreed Moody. "We know the imperius curse wasn't necessary for that one."  
  
"The Wizengot has him dead to rights." Tonks added.  
  
"I'm not sure what he is planning for this trial, but knowing Malfoy it's nothing good. The trial doesn't start for two days. The official ministry people are scheduled to come here to deliver you tomorrow night. We thought it best to use Order people and do it a day earlier. Given how easily Fudge was taken in by Lucius Malfoy last year, who knows what leaks and incompetence are in the Ministry. Constant vigilance!"  
  
"If there aren't anymore questions - "  
  
"Actually, I have one more." interrupted Harry his mind racing to catch up with what was going on. "Malone McGonagall? Any relation to Professor McGonagall?"  
  
"Yes, actually. I am the son of the brother she doesn't admit to having."  
  
"Oh…the son of the brother she doesn't admit to having?" repeated Harry.  
  
"Well…now that that's all been cleared up," chuckled Loki. "Shall we?"  
  
Using his magical eye, Moody scanned the yard and night sky for anything unusual before opening the front door.  
  
As soon as Malone, the last of the rear guard, crossed the threshold of the door he stopped. "Wait, something is very wrong." 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

As soon as Malone, the last of the rear guard, crossed the threshold of the door he stopped. "Wait, something is very wrong."

Tonks and Lupin turned with Harry to look at Malone. The more experienced aurors knew better and looked everywhere but at Malone.

Shacklebolt finally broke the silence. "I don't see anything unusual."

"That's the problem - neither do I. Everything is completely normal."

While this made no sense to Harry, it seemed a matter of great concern to the others.

"It would take serious dark magic to totally block your visions." Tonks was unable to keep the worry from her voice.

"Everyone stay sharp." Moody snapped.

"In school you often lost it." said Lupin.

"Lupin, you and your kind can go - "

"- This has happened before, Malone?" asked Moody ignoring the outburst.

Harry was quite surprised at Malone's words. Professor McGonagall was a little strict, but open minded. He was beginning to dislike her nephew, who clearly had a problem with Lupin being a werewolf.

"Well yes. I only have the sight when I have my wand. But with my wand, the only time it ever gets blocked is when I am near the source of my wand's core."

Making himself visible, Loki smiled. "Then I would suggest saying hello to your wand's source." He removed his hat in greeting to the tree by the road. When he lifted the hat Harry couldn't help but notice a series of horrible burn scars around the back of his neck. "Hello, Kitten."

This time everyone turned. A familiar gray and black tabby cat carefully descended the tree. Suddenly before them stood Professor Minerva McGonagall, the human version. Looking at her, Harry couldn't quite figure out what it was about her that was different.

She no longer carried the walking stick she shared with Peeves. Certainly the summer muggle dress and heels she wore were a change from her usual green robes. No, it was her hair. Down from it's usual rigid bun, it was now more leisurely contained in a braid that reached almost to her waist. Odd that such a small change could be so dramatic. It softened her face considerably and positively made her look decades younger.

"We weren't expecting you this evening, Professor" was Moody's only slightly surprised reply. "But then I guess that would be my oversight, not yours."

"Moody. Remus. Potter." McGonagall greeted them all with a curt nod before her gaze returned to the man with the hat. "Loki." After a moment's reflection on his short silver hair her lips twitched, "You know I prefer your hair long."

"Yes, I imagine you would. But we can't have everything we want in life. Didn't anyone ever tell you that?" Loki never took his eyes off of her.

McGonagall shook her head, still keeping eye contact. "Actually, I do believe I was eight before I ever even heard the word 'no'."

"Why does that not surprise me?" asked Loki.

If Harry had been anticipating some kind of emotional reunion, he was greatly disappointed. Malone didn't even get his own mention, just the one nod for all. Malone didn't seem all that excited to see the elder McGonagall either, just uncomfortable.

"Did Dumbledore send you?" questioned Tonks finally getting the two to break eye contact.

"No, Nymphadora. Dumbledore doesn't know I am here. Contrary to popular opinion I can walk, talk, and even make decisions on my own. I thought you might be able to use another hand."

Maybe it was the insinuation, real or imagined, in Tonks' question that made McGonagall use Tonks' despised first name. It was certainly the use of the name that influenced Tonks' reply.

"Oh yes. I'm sure a Transfiguration teacher would be most useful to us. If we get attacked you can turn matches into needles and throw them." McGonagall's flash of anger turned to a flush of embarrassment as Tonks continued. "That is, if you don't manage to get stunned at the first sign of trouble."

When she finished even Tonks knew she had gone too far. Before she had a chance to take any of it back, McGonagall interrupted her.

"Well, I see you have things well in hand, so I will leave you to - "

McGonagall was interrupted by Moody's blast at Tonks. "Tonks, how many Death Eaters have you captured or killed?"

Tonks gave Moody an affronted look. "You know I was at the Ministry of Magic with you the day the Death Eaters tried to get the prophecy. Before that I did everything asked of me by the Order of the Phoenix. In the past month, I have been on several missions to bring in suspected collaborators."

"Right." growled Moody. "So adding it all together you have killed no Death Eaters and been present at the capture of under a dozen." As he continued talking Moody's rage grew. "McGonagall has single handedly killed more Death Eaters in a day, then you have met in your lifetime. She has a bloody poltergeist that has killed more Death Eaters than you have. And as for being stunned, I don't seem to recall you lasting very long at the Department of Mysteries yourself. Transfiguration teacher, my bloody arse. Minerva Themis Grin -"

Harry looked at his Transfiguration teacher and then Mad-Eye Moody in wonder, unable to follow everything the man said. Surely Moody must be exaggerating.

Seeing Moody had managed to work himself up into such a frenzy that he failed to notice how contrite Tonks already looked, Lupin thought it best to interrupt. "Minerva, we are traveling by broomstick. I don't suppose you have brought one?"

Loki shook his head and grinned at Moody. "Repent! The end is near! Moody is actually defending Kitten." A mischievous glint appeared in the man's eye. "Or maybe someone should check his trunk."

The trunk comment finally managed to penetrate through Moody's tirade. He turned his scowl onto Loki.

After another moment of starring at Moody with an expression Harry couldn't figure out, McGonagall shot a dark look at Loki before answering Lupin. "No, I don't have one."

"Well, you would certainly be welcome to share a broom with me." supplied Mundungus suggestively.

"I think not." said McGonagall in a tone and expression with which Harry was much more familiar. "It won't be a Firebolt, but I am certain I can manage to charm together something."

McGonagall returned to her tree. After only a few minutes of work she seemed satisfied with her makeshift broom. "If you don't mind I would like to get going."

"Hot date after this?" asked Mundungus with a wink.

Minerva sniffed and motioned to the small velvet bag tied to her side. "I have a chess game planned for later this evening."

"It's two in the morning right now...a chess game." Mundungus smirked until he saw Malone's death glare. "Mmm chess game... sounds lovely at two in the morning." he backtracked.

Moody having settled down to just his normal growl told Lupin to give his invisibility cloak to Minerva.

"No, thank you." declined McGonagall. "I despise invisibility cloaks."

Harry found her tone and Moody's lack of insistence rather unusual, but neither said anything more on it.

Before putting the cloak back on, Lupin smiled towards Harry. "You know," he said quietly so just Harry could hear, "She really does. You ought to thank Dumbledore for saving yours. When it was James, she confiscated it twice and tried to burn it. The second time, Dumbledore only stopped her by promising he would keep it 'till James and his marauding friends grew up and learned to behave like civilized people." Remus smiled. "So naturally your father never got it back."

At the mention of Dumbledore, Harry was grateful to be invisible. Even after two weeks of brooding at Privat Drive, he still felt angry and betrayed by the older man.

"Dumbledore wanted to come with us today to make sure you would be safe. But he wanted to respect your feelings. Harry, I know you blame yourself for Sirius's death and I know both you and Dumbledore blame Dumbledore for his death. The thing is Harry, you are both wrong. Sirius made his own decisions and right or wrong, his life and his death were on his own terms.

Dumbledore kept things from you Harry and I know that hurt you. But I honestly can't fault the man. Whatever the result, his intentions were noble. While that may seem small comfort to you at the moment, good intentions are more than a lot of people ever offer."

Harry only had time to wonder if Lupin was referring to his lycanthropy before the conversation was ended abruptly.

"Mount your brooms." called Moody.

"Anyways, Harry if you want to talk - about Sirius, your father, Dumbledore, or anything - I want you to know I'm here for you." With this Lupin threw the cloak around himself and disappeared.

After climbing aboard his Firebolt, Harry waited for word to take off. He was looking forward to being in the air again. After a few minutes he noticed the order was not coming. Looking around he noticed all the others were looking in Professor McGonagall's direction. Puzzled he turned.

The broom's light hum while hovering with McGonagall on it reminded Harry of his old Nimbus. The problem didn't appear to be with the broom, but rather with the rider.

It was Tonks who finally spoke. "You can't ride a broom sidesaddle."

Professor McGonagall's only response was to raise one eyebrow as she glared at Tonks or perhaps more specifically through Tonks.

"We're going very high ... it's windy ... you'll fall off..." finished Tonks rather unspectacularly.

"I _have_ impeccable balance." was the rather clipped reply. McGonagall continued to glare at Tonks as if to dare her to say more.

From the pleading looks Tonks shot first to Malone and then to Moody, Harry thought it safe to assume Tonks hadn't attended Hogwarts with its accompanying seven years of classes with different variations of that steely gaze.

Malone shook his head slightly then turned away. Moody met Tonks' gaze and sighed. "Minerva, it's best if you put the broom _between_ your legs."

McGonagall's response came in a voice that would have made a glacier proud. "Let me assure you Alastor, you need not now or ever concern yourself with what goes between my legs."

Moody opened his mouth as if to respond, but closed it again rather quickly.

Stifling a giggle, Harry looked around at the others. Lupin was busy with his own internal battle. Tonks gave up her struggle and instead tried to mask her hearty laugh with a long series of coughs. Mundungus was choking and turning red trying to contain his. Loki gave a quiet but surprisingly open laugh while Malone just hovered to the side waiting for everyone to settle down.

Still laughing a bit Loki mounted his own broom next to Moody. In a light voice, he said to Moody, "She always did have your ticket that one."

"Don't know what you mean." growled Moody certainly louder than he meant as Lupin and Tonks shot inquiring looks their way.

"I mean even as a child she never was fond of you. Course thinking back, you never did give her cause to like you, quite the opposite."

"In the air." Moody called to the group, ignoring the last few comments.

As they took to the air, Harry found a comfort in the rush of the wind that had been sorely missing. Soaring through the night air further away from the Dursleys with every minute, he could feel his heart getting lighter.

He laughed a few minutes into the trip when an invisible Tonks leaned close in to confide, "All this clockwise and counter-clockwise business is making me dizzy."

Moody had never assigned Professor McGonagall a position and Harry noticed she kept falling behind the group. Even though he knew she loved Quidditch, it was very odd seeing his usually stern Transfiguration Professor riding a broom. Somehow, sidesaddle seemed appropriate for her even though it was very impractical. Her black hair was attempting to escape its braid, several strands already freed by the wind were blowing in front of her. Her muggle dress however stayed perfectly still. Harry laughed as he realized she must have used a sticking charm on it.

They traveled uneventfully for twenty minutes. Then Professor McGonagall caught up with the group to warn Moody, "We are being followed."

Everyone tensed, but kept flying.

Without turning, Moody looked with his magical eye. "I don't see anyone. How far back are they?"

"I don't know. The wind is not very strong tonight, so not very far. Less than half a mile perhaps?"

"How many?"

"At least four people, but maybe more."

"Anyone we are familiar with?" ask Moody.

McGonagall shook her head. "I don't think so."

Harry wondered how McGonagall was getting this information. She hadn't strayed that far from the group.

"Anything else you can tell about them?"

McGonagall shrugged. "One is wearing a lot of really cheap smelling cologne."

Moody let out a little laugh. "I'll be sure to tell him when I find him."

After considering his group of travelers for a minute he asked, "Nothing in front?"

McGonagall's response wasn't helpful. "The wind is coming from behind."

Moody turned to Malone. "Still can't see anything?"

Malone shook his head. By now Harry realized Malone was supposed to be some kind of a Seer. So far he was about as impressive as Trelawney. No wonder Professor McGonagall thought so little of Divination.

Moody considered the group again before announcing his decision. "Minerva, take Potter and keep moving. The rest of us will stay back and mount a surprise attack. If there are only four, the six of us should be able to make quick work of them and catch up to you. And if there are more, we will distract them as long as we can to give you more of a lead."

"Alastor - it could be a trap. They could be trying to box us in with more in front." was Shacklebolt's concerned response.

Moody nodded. "I know. That's why I'm sending Minerva with Potter. If it is a trap I have full confidence she will get him out of here."

McGonagall gave Moody such a surprised look at this vote of confidence Harry wondered that she didn't fall off her broom.

Moody faced McGonagall again. "You run into any problems - No pulling punches. No trying to take prisoners. Get Potter to safety and everything, everyone else be damned."

As Minerva shepherded Harry ahead, Moody called out, "One more thing - don't go getting yourself killed either. I firmly believe I would have an easier end at the hands of Voldemort himself than I would bringing Dumbledore the news you died again."

Flying beside Professor McGonagall, Harry couldn't help being concerned about the others. "Do you think they will be alright?"

Professor McGonagall's reply started off in her usual sharp teaching voice, but lost something by the end. "I should certainly hope so Mr. Potter. They are after all a group of fully trained wizards. I should certainly hope so."

"How did you know we were being followed?"

"I could smell them."

When Harry just looked at her puzzled, she continued. "I have spent many years living as an animagus cat. One can begin to ... develop or retain as it may be, the habits and abilities of their counterpart."

When he continued to fix her with a puzzled look she snapped at him. "As one of my more inelegant former colleagues used to say, I've 'gone feral'."

Harry started to laugh at this till he noticed a change in Professor McGonagall's face. Looking ahead again, he saw why.

In the distance, he could see what had to be two dozen cloaked forms flying towards them. The moonlight glittering ominously off of their white masks clearly indicated they were not the cavalry.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Thanks for the feedback. Send more and I will post more =)  
  
Lots of little red herrings and comments the reader and Harry aren't supposed to understand are being thrown in the first few chapters. The story is going to move into the past shortly. Since the events of the past have already occurred for all the characters, it's only natural for them to make passing references to the past even if the reader doesn't quite understand them till later.  
  
This chapter includes graphic violence.  
  
****************  
  
In the distance, he could see what had to be at least two dozen cloaked forms flying towards them. The moonlight glittering ominously off of their white masks clearly indicated they were not the cavalry.  
  
For the moment, the moon and cloud cover appeared to be working on the Death Eater's side, illuminating the night sky too brightly to provide any hopes of running away. There were too many Death Eaters and they were already too close. No amount of Quidditch maneuvers would be able to prevent all of them from landing a spell on fleeing figures.  
  
"There's too many of them!" said Harry.  
  
"Then we will just have to even the odds, won't we." McGonagall fingered the pouch on her side, loosening the drawstring. "Potter stay calm. Keep under the cloak and don't make a sound."  
  
Still approaching, the leader of the Death Eaters had a different idea.  
  
"Accio invisibility cloak!"  
  
Harry recognized the voice and the dark hair swinging around the face of the Death Eater that cast the spell.  
  
"Kill the boy, but take the changeling alive. The Dark Lord wants to enjoy a bit more bed-sport before he's through with her."  
  
Bellatrix Lestrange began to laugh.  
  
McGonagall sighed. "Fine, don't stay under the cloak." She flicked her wand and holding the bottom of her pouch, emptied it's contents into the night air.  
  
As the light-colored stone figures emerged from the bag they instantaneously expanded to adult size. Wings sprouted from their backs, enabling them to fly. Even including McGonagall's contribution to protecting the sorcerer's stone, no chess set Harry had ever seen was like this. All eight pawns held a silver shield in each arm and flew to encircle Harry and Professor McGonagall. The castles and rooks duel-wielded swords. The knights had no need of wings as their noble steeds were given those. Both knights had a shield and a lance. The Queen also held a shield, but in her other hand was a wand.  
  
Since white always moves first in chess, the pieces did not wait for the Death Eaters to cast first. As if on signal, the seven chess pieces charged as one. The King remained behind.  
  
The Death Eaters were scattered in a line that was closing into a half circle as they got closer.  
  
The thinking perhaps being that once the two live participants were eliminated from the battle, their animations would cease, the Death Eaters at first ignored the approaching chess pieces. They tried to cast through the pawns at Harry. The order given had been to take Professor McGonagall alive. With her close proximity to Harry, the Killing curse was not used. Using their magical shields, the pawns were able to deflect most spells sent and absorbed those that could not be deflected. As they were stone, petrifying and stunning spells were useless. Imperius and Crucio likewise had no effect. It took a few moments for the Death Eaters to realize severing spells landed, but as the figures were stone, several were needed to disable a single pawn.  
  
Ignoring the approaching pieces had been a miscalculation. They were made of stone and as such had the capacity for neither compassion nor mercy. Buoyed by their winged horses, the knights galloped to the opposite ends of the half circle with lances ready. The single line made it easy for the knights to fill their lances. Harry looked on in horror and wonder to discover no less than four Death Eaters could fit on each lance. Lances at capacity the knights simply released them, allowing them to fall thru the night sky.  
  
Casting at the pawns, one of the more intelligent Death Eaters soon realized the easiest way to remove them from the fight was two well placed severing charms to remove their wings. Unfortunately for him, he was fifth from the end of the line and soon engaged in combat with a knight. The wizard's wand was soon of no use in the close quarter fighting as the knight ruthlessly used his shield to bash the Death Eater and interrupt his spells. Harry could see a similar display going on with the knight on the other end. Both knights managed to unseat their opponents, but one knight tumbled into the night sky still grappling with his opponent.  
  
The still seated knight continued on to another opponent. Not to be outdone, the rider-less horse also returned to the fray. He reared on his hind legs and attempted to unseat broom riders with his front hooves. Those lucky enough to remain seated when his legs came down were greeted by his gnashing teeth. When the teeth managed to break skin, either by some venom or an enchantment, the victim was petrified.  
  
While the knights had charged at the ends of the circle, the Queen headed for the center. The sword wielding castles and rooks separated and scattered in-between.  
  
With the moonlight reflecting off of the steel of their blades, they were an impressive vision. As the castles and rooks approached and each removed their first enemy from the battle, one of the Death Eaters had a brilliant idea.  
  
"Expelliarmus!"  
  
The voice that had shouted was soon rewarded with the two swords his target had been carrying. However, unlike the two dull ends of a wand, swords have a sharpened edge. It was this end which greeted the voice, twice.  
  
It was the Queen's actions which finally made Bellatrix realize the chess pieces should be concentrated on. The Queen was casting with her wand. Quietly and unnoticed at first, the Queen had been transfiguring the combatants brooms into ordinary muggle brooms. Several Death Eaters fell from the sky never realizing what happened because the change in feel and appearance was too subtle in the heat of battle.  
  
Bellatrix however, noticed as her broomstick changed. The Death Eater beside her didn't have time to register what was happening before she had successfully unseated him and appropriated his broom.  
  
Expressing the thought one of the other Death Eaters had had long ago, Bellatrix ordered, "Sever their bloody wings! Form double lines."  
  
All of this happened so quickly. Each of the chess pieces was operating independently and yet in time with the others. Harry might only have the Transfiguration knowledge of a fifth year, but even he marveled at the concentration and pure power required to simultaneously maintain and direct such a production. Certainly Dumbledore had transfigured the statues in the Ministry of Magic and used them defensively, but this was much more than that. These were doing defense and a very impressive offense.  
  
And the Queen! It took Harry only a moment to realize the constant muttering under Professor McGonagall's breath was both her casting spells and sometimes the Queen delivering them.  
  
The pawns numbers were dwindling under the Death Eaters' continued fire. At the start, Harry had attempted to send a few volleys of his own at the Death Eaters, but instead he accidentally hit the pawns and his Petrificus Totalus had been harmlessly absorbed. When Professor McGonagall cast spells, the pawns knew instinctively when and where to move to avoid them. Not so with his spells, so Harry had just silently watched the on-going battle.  
  
But now their circling protectors were lessened in numbers so perhaps he should try again. He was occupied, considering this thought, so he didn't notice until the second time Professor McGonagall questioned him.   
  
"Harry, do you have anything in your pockets?"  
  
Reaching in Harry produced a few coins.  
  
"Count to three and throw them."  
  
Harry did as he was told. He watched Professor McGonagall's brow furrow slightly in concentration as her lips and wand moved. The coins became ravens. They circled once before flying directly at the Death Eaters.  
  
Once the transfiguration was complete her face returned to its previous intent, but calm expression. Her gray eyes were alive with an energy Harry had never seen before. Her hair had long since escaped the confines of it's braid and flowed freely in the night wind. Watching his Transfiguration professor in this most unusual setting, Harry was struck by a thought that had never before occurred to him. Minerva McGonagall was beautiful. He had always thought Minerva, with her counterpart Athena, to be the goddess of wisdom and reason. But tonight, watching Minerva McGonagall orchestrate this campaign, he was reminded that Minerva was also the fierce and ruthless battle goddess.  
  
Watching Professor McGonagall, Harry missed much of what was going on around him. The Death Eaters had managed to remove the wings of the attacking chess pieces, but not without significant losses of their own. Realizing what the Death Eaters were doing, each castle, rook, and the remaining knight grabbed onto a Death Eater with their stone hands. The sheer weight of the stone statues was enough to drag down the cloaked figures. The chessmen remained locked around their enemies, preventing them from using their wands until both flesh and stone shattered on the ground far below. The two horses each bit a final victim before their last wing was severed. The Queen continued casting, but eventually she too succumbed to the same fate.  
  
It was only after the last of the circling pawns were destroyed, when Professor McGonagall moved in front and took the "Crucio" meant for him, that Harry returned his attention to the battle. Professor McGonagall grimaced and closed her eyes for a second as the spell landed. With the spell still upon her, she continued casting her own spell. The remaining ravens descended on the still casting Death Eater and obstructed his view with their beaks and talons.  
  
As that Death Eater was eliminated from the battle, Bellatrix and another Death Eater also cast the Unforgivable spell. The two casters were spaced far enough away that Professor McGonagall was only able to move quickly enough to get in the way of Bellatrix's spell.  
  
The agonizing pain that had no discernable effect on Professor McGonagall caused Harry to lose his balance. He reeled enough when the pain started, that even though he was straddling his broom he still fell off. His fist had instinctively clenched, so he still had his wand, but the pain was too intense for him to focus enough to cast any type of spell to stop the fall.  
  
For a moment the pain stopped and Harry felt a hand grab his wrist. A different, much lesser pain started in his wrist as the new hand jerked his wrist up and stopped his fall. Head down, Harry opened his eyes in time to watch a wand fall to the ground. Looking up, he realized it was Professor McGonagall's wand. After diving down after him with one hand wrapped around the broom for support, she had to relinquish her wand to grab his wrist.  
  
As he scrambled up onto the broom behind her, McGonagall warned him, "What ever happens, don't let go of your wand Potter."  
  
"Incendio!"  
  
The few remaining Death Eaters were chasing after them. As the wood at the end of McGonagall's makeshift broom caught fire Harry shifted around to try to put it out with his wand. Still attempting to maneuver the quickly failing broom, Professor McGonagall shook her head. "Summon your broom back and get on it."  
  
"Accio Firebolt!"  
  
The broom flew right up to his hand. With a little difficulty, he was able to avoid the burning end of McGonagall's broom and swing a leg over to mount his own. Flying beside him, McGonagall attempted to jump onto his broom. Harry had to swerve a bit to avoid a curse. He was sure it had thrown off McGonagall's aim, but the sharp claws scratching halfway across his back before becoming hands, informed him she had found a way to compensate. Wrapping one arm around Harry's waist, the other hand found it's way to his wand hand.  
  
When Professor McGonagall's hand made contact with his own, Harry felt a surge of energy pass through him. His whole body flooded with an incredible sensation. It was like burning, but without the pain. A pleasant tingling. An almost inaudible roar filled his ears.  
  
McGonagall spoke and the color of the fire changed before the burning broom turned and went blazing into the cluster of Death Eaters. Harry realized she was casting spells through him.  
  
The three Death Eaters whose cloaks caught fire when the broom passed by them tried to put the fire out with their wands. Harry didn't know what McGonagall had done to the fire, but whatever it was the fire wouldn't go out. With the masks, Harry couldn't be sure, but from the shrieks he thought at least one of the Death Eaters was female. Too late, the Death Eaters struggled to remove their burning cloaks. Not wanting to watch the fire spread anymore, Harry turned away.  
  
Down to a group of only seven now, Bellatrix had finally had enough. "The hell with what the Dark Lord wants. Kill the boy and the changeling. Master has already gotten all he needs from her."  
  
Whirling the broom around to face their attackers on McGonagall's command, Harry picked the nearest Death Eater,. He began to cast stunning spells. "Stupefy!"  
  
The seven remaining Death Eaters were still in a cluster with Bellatrix in the center. All seven began to cast the Killing curse at almost the same time.  
  
Harry had only a second to wonder at Professor McGonagall's choice of spells. She said the words so quickly, surely he couldn't be hearing right. "Accio Comet 260!"  
  
Harry's spell was anticipated and the Death Eater he aimed at was ready to block it, but McGonagall's spell was too unexpected. As the Comet 260 broomstick a Death Eater in the back of the cluster was riding shot towards McGonagall, it knocked into the group of Death Eaters. They scattered like the tenpin bowling pins Chocolate Frog cards claim Dumbledore to be so fond of. All of the Killing curses missed their intended marks, but not all landed harmlessly. Two cloaked figures were enveloped in the green glow before silently slipping off their brooms. Harry's own stun knocked out the Comet 260 rider and off his broom before he could actually reach McGonagall.  
  
Bellatrix, whose own spell had been one that hit a Death Eater, shrieked in outrage.  
  
"Again!"  
  
  
  
McGonagall, again in that super fast voice, called out, "Accio Nimbus 2001!" For a second, Harry marveled. He always knew Professor McGonagall was a very observant woman. At Hogwarts, it was commonly held that Professor McGonagall could spot trouble quicker than any other teacher. And she was an avid Quidditch fan. He just never realized how much attention she paid to the minor details of the sport. Of course, it helped that the Nimbus company clearly printed the model number on their brooms.  
  
Again the last four Death Eaters all started to cast the Killing curse.  
  
Stupefy was a good spell. It was short, easy to get in while others were trying to get out the longer Killing curse. It had been useful once, even if not quite how he imagined it, so Harry tried it again. This time the Death Eaters were so focused on McGonagall, that he managed to stun one. Even as the cloaked figure began the fall to the ground, Harry cast the spell again.  
  
Professor McGonagall's spell went off first, followed quickly by all the others.  
  
The front rider was the proud owner of the Nimbus 2001. Against his will, he moved forward as the spell urged his broom along. The front rider absorbed the Killing curse from the two behind him at the same time Harry's stun hit him. None were in time to prevent the front rider's Killing curse from going off.  
  
Just as the green glow reached the front of the Firebolt, the long forgotten Chess King finally joined the fray, sacrificing himself so Harry might live.  
  
The two remaining Death Eaters were no longer of the same mind. In an absolute fury, Bellatrix screamed out "Crucio!" as the other again tried the Killing curse.  
  
Bellatrix's anger was so intense that the Crucio spell hit Harry with such force that this time he did the unthinkable. Not only did he lurch and would have fallen off the broom had McGonagall not tightened her grip around his waist and taken her hand off of his to brace herself on the broom, but as his hand spasmed, he lost grip of his wand.  
  
Professor McGonagall was so intent on not letting Harry fall that she could do nothing against the other Death Eater's approaching curse. As Bellatrix released Harry from the Crucio spell, the only thing that stopped the Killing Curse from hitting was the arrival of a screech owl. As the mail owl swooped down, the curse hit it in the back. Harry only had time to note the neat formal writing of his name on the letter attached to the owl's leg before it dropped out of sight.  
  
So much for Trelawney's predictions. Harry had always known the woman was a fraud. With two Death Eaters hovering side by side directly in front of them, there was no way their aim would miss.  
  
They had fought valiantly. Against such incredible odds, it was amazing they had lasted this long. His only regret was that the woman who had killed his Godfather was not amongst the ones they had defeated. But now, Harry knew it was over. Both he and Professor McGonagall were wand-less. Surely a woman who laughed as she killed her own cousin would have no issue against killing an unarmed witch and under-aged wizard.  
  
Bellatrix raised her head and laughed. "I really must thank you for a lovely evening. But now, I can't think of a better ending than…  
  
The unknown Death Eater raised his wand and started the spell first.  
  
"Av-"  
  
Bellatrix started the spell too.  
  
"Av-"  
  
Harry felt McGonagall's arms loosen from around him.  
  
"-a-"  
  
  
  
Before letting go completely.  
  
"-a-"  
  
Suddenly, with a slight popping noise, the presence behind him on the broom was gone.  
  
"-da-"  
  
With shock, Harry realized Professor McGonagall had apporated away.   
  
"-da-"  
  
A skill he lacked.   
  
"Ked-"  
  
Not that he blamed her, after all no sense in them both dying when just he would suffice.  
  
"Ked-"  
  
Harry turned to look the masked Death Eater in the face. He would stand and face death proudly, even if the one bringing it to him was too cowardly to show their face.   
  
"-av-"  
  
And then he heard the pop again.  
  
"-av-"  
  
And Professor McGonagall reappeared. This time with her arms wrapped around the masked Death Eater. Her hands covering his hands. And pushing them up. Pointing the wand back at it's surprised holder.  
  
"-ra"  
  
The green light was still starting out of the wand. Professor McGonagall was transforming. Her impeccably balanced cat feet were pushing off the broom. Her front claws were extended. Her cat jaw was closing.  
  
"-ra"  
  
As the scratching, biting Professor McGonagall leaped into Bellatrix, the younger woman gave an inhuman howl of pain and frustration. The spell missed it's target and wandered off into the night sky.  
  
The blood trickled from the bites on her throat, but more disturbing was the liquid seeping from her eyes. Blindly, she tore at the writhing form upon her. By the time Bellatrix finally managed to properly grasp the feline Professor McGonagall, what was left of her face compared most unfavorably to Mad-Eye Moody.  
  
Bellatrix hurled the unseen gray and black cat into the night sky. Utterly shocked at what had just happened, it took a moment for Harry's Seeker reflexes to take hold. Diving into the night sky with his Firebolt to speed him along, Harry easily overtook Professor McGonagall. Clinching his legs around the broom, he used two hands to catch her around the middle.  
  
After he leveled out the direction of the broom, she returned to human form. Harry kept his arms wrapped around her until he was sure she was steady. Even through her light summer dress, he could feel the power radiating from her with every beat her heart made. As her heart rate began to settle he let go.  
  
More to have something to say than anything else, he asked, "I wonder how the others are doing?"  
  
She nodded. After a moment she spoke. "We should start moving again." She apporated to the back of the broom to let the more experienced rider steer.  
  
As Harry started to turn the broom around, he saw the figure in the distance. When the searing pain started in his scar, he lurched. Professor McGonagall's arms encircled him, now holding him steady on the broom. As her hand made contact with his flesh, the pain instantly stopped. Righting himself, he followed McGonagall's gaze, scanning the distance. The cloaked figure gave an elaborate bow before disapporating.  
  
Harry tensed expectantly. After a minute, Professor McGonagall returned her attention to him.  
  
"It's over for now, Harry. Let's go."  
  
"But I saw him! Voldemort was here!"  
  
She nodded. "He's gone now. He won't be returning tonight."  
  
Harry was still alarmed. "You don't know that. How can you be sure?"  
  
"It's not his way. He will find something else to do." There was a certainty to her voice that both reassured and alarmed him. 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Thanks so much for the reviews. Laura I am positively blushing. Glad people liked the battle scenes.  
  
Also I absolutely promise Dumbledore will finally appear next chapter. I bill this as a MM/AD story since as everyone knows he is the great love of her life, however be forewarned since this is something of a life story, there will be a few other pairings of both canon and a non-canon characters.  
  
***********************  
  
After a few minutes of flying, Harry noticed how quiet Professor McGonagall was being. Looking back he could see she was shaking visibly. He wondered how much of it was actually from the cool night air, but still cursed himself for not having worn a cloak to offer her.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
After a moment of no response, Harry landed the broom in a secluded park area. Now that the adrenalin had faded, the actions of the last few minutes appeared to be catching up with her.  
  
"Professor McGonagall?"  
  
Her face had no color in it. The hair that had looked so beautiful flying in the wind a few minutes earlier, now just looked dull and matted from the wind. The blankness in her eyes was beginning to alarm him.  
  
"Professor McGonagall? Are you alright?"  
  
He reached out a hand to touch hers. She was still unresponsive, but when he made contact with her skin, it was there again. That pleasant burning sensation and the dull roar in his ears.  
  
Harry's attention was distracted as several forms began to land around them. Panic rose in him until he recognized the electric blue eye of Mad-Eye Moody. His panic seemed to have reached through the physical connection between them because Professor McGonagall looked up.  
  
Suddenly, she was moving. As she reached a cluster of bushes, Harry could hear her beginning to retch. Watching her from behind, he saw a series of butterflies flutter up from the bushes.  
  
Loki chuckled softly next to Harry. "Gods Kitten! Butterflies? Heavens forbid you ever show weakness."  
  
As Professor McGonagall retched again and more butterflies took flight, Harry realized they weren't coming from the bushes.  
  
Removing his cloak, Moody began to approach Professor McGonagall. Even with her back to the group, she tensed visibly. Noticing this, Moody stopped where he was.  
  
In a gentler growl, than Harry ever imagined possible, the older man asked, "Are you alright?"  
  
McGonagall nodded her head sharply. "I just want to get the foul taste of that Lestrange woman out of my mouth."  
  
Tonks' eyes widened. After an awkward minute, she said apologetically, "I'm all out of tic tacs."  
  
A few minutes passed in awkward silence, everyone starring at McGonagall's back. Malone was the one to break the silence.  
  
"So what do you say about the World Cup?"  
  
Everyone except Professor McGonagall looked at him in disbelief. After only a second, Malone went on.  
  
"Bulgaria still has Krum, but I just don't think he will be enough this year. One man can only do so much, I mean. He's been carrying the team for years now. No, I favor Scotland this year or maybe even England. Shame about Ireland. Don't you think?"  
  
Still no one said a word so Malone added, "Which teams do you favor, Moody?"  
  
The outraged look Moody had fixed on Malone faded as he caught on to what the young man was doing.  
  
"I don't know." admitted Moody. "What you said sounded about right. I haven't followed professional Quidditch much in the last two years. Harry plays Quidditch, you know. Gryffindor team Seeker. What's your opinion on this year's crop, Harry?"  
  
After only a few seconds with no response from Harry, Malone started talking again.  
  
"I was on Gryffindor's team in my time at Hogwarts. I was Seeker for a while, but games ended so quickly, people were losing interest. So they changed me to Keeper. Then other teams complained because they couldn't score. Finally, I ended up a Chaser."  
  
Listening to McGonagall's nephew in confusion, the panic in Harry began to rise again. Why were there only four of them? Where was Lupin? And the others?  
  
He didn't have to wonder long, as that moment Lupin, Kingsley, and Fletcher landed around them.  
  
Noting at a glance that Harry was alright, Lupin turned to Professor McGonagall. Before anyone could say a word to warn him, Lupin crossed over to her. Oddly, she didn't seem to flinch this time. In a fluid motion, Lupin removed his cloak and draped it around Professor McGonagall. Malone looked on with a dark expression as Lupin put a hand on her back and began to speak quietly so only she could hear.  
  
Harry watched his Professor and former Professor together while listening to her nephew babble in the background. Tonks had begun chattering with him now, but kept stealing odd looks towards the other pair.  
  
Moody approached Harry quietly. "You look alright Harry, but are you?"  
  
Harry nodded. "I didn't really do anything." He concentrated. So many thoughts and questions whirled around in his head, which to ask first? His concern was evident in his face and voice when he asked, "Is Professor McGonagall alright?"  
  
Moody made a face before answering. His face was so scarred and lined, Harry wasn't sure if it was a smile or a frown. "I think she will be fine."  
  
"Bellatrix said things…She…They tried to use Crucio on me, but Professor McGonagall got in the way."  
  
Moody's face darkened. "She will be okay, Harry. Just needs a bit of time. She's in shock. Harry, I need you to tell me what happened."  
  
"I lost my wand and my Dad's cloak." was the first thing to escape his mouth.  
  
"I lost my chess pieces."  
  
Everyone turned. Harry hadn't realized how loud he had said it or was Professor McGonagall more aware than he had thought? He was relieved she was speaking again, but her voice wasn't right.  
  
"Armando gave me that set."  
  
Harry was confused. He watched McGonagall for a minute, her fingers toying with an emerald and diamond pendant around her neck. Armando? It took him a minute to remember, Armando Dippet was a former Hogwarts Headmaster. He had seen the man during his second year, inside Tom Riddle's diary. Knowing McGonagall's fondness for chess, he wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad sign that she thought of that before her wand.  
  
"Professor McGonagall's wand is gone too. She transfigured the chess pieces - the Death Eaters destroyed them."  
  
Harry blinked furiously as the realization hit him that his father's cloak was gone too. The cloak Dumbledore saved for him was the only thing he ever had that belonged to one of his parents.  
  
Now that he thought about it, the loss of his wand weighed heavily on him too. Harry knew if it were not for the fact that his wand shared cores with Voldemort, Harry never would have made it out of the Triwizard Tournament alive.  
  
As if reading his mind, Moody spoke. "Not to worry. Wands can be easily replaced - yes Harry, even yours. Fawkes only ever let Ollivander take two feathers, but that doesn't mean Fawkes won't give you another."  
  
"Where did you lose them?" asked Tonks. "Maybe we can get them back."  
  
"Certainly should try for the cloak. Invisibility cloaks are rare, worth quite a bit. If Harry ever decided to part with it, why I might know a few people interested in one."  
  
"Enough Mundungus!" snarled Moody.  
  
"Let's give it a quick try." Tonks extended her wand. "Accio invisibility cloak. Accio -"  
  
Tonks was interrupted as both of Moody's invisibility cloaks flew at her.  
  
The sight was enough to get Loki to laugh, but the others were still too unsettled by recent events to be amused.  
  
Giving Tonks a dark look, Moody tried. "Accio Minerva's wand. Accio Harry's wand. Accio Harry's invisibility cloak."  
  
After a moment, a fluttering noise could be heard getting closer. Heads went up as a tawny owl flew into view. Those with wands raised them. The bird swooped and dived erratically as if trying to dodge unseen spells. As the owl passed over Harry, it released the red envelope in its beak before quickly departing the way it had arrived.  
  
Before the envelope even reached Harry it burst open. An outraged voice shrieked into the night air,  
  
"MR. HARRY POTTER! HOW DARE YOU ATTACK A DEPARTMENT FOR THE IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OWL! YOU -"  
  
Mundungus interrupted the Howler with a curse. With a grin, he admitted, "I always wanted to do that."  
  
Moody raised an eyebrow. "It's not safe out in the open. Let's get moving."  
  
"Professor McGonagall's broom is gone too." added Harry.  
  
After a glance at a still pale looking McGonagall, Moody began searching the ground. "Try to find something to make a basket. We can attach it to one of the brooms and Minerva can travel in that."  
  
Loki grinned. Harry wondered if there was anything in life the man didn't find funny.  
  
"Hear that Kitten? Alastor thinks you are a basket case."  
  
Moody was furious. "Damn it, Loki! That's not what I said."  
  
Loki ignored him. "As for something to make a basket, we do have a Transfiguration teacher with us, so I think just about anything can be a basket -"  
  
Loki was interrupted as he ducked to avoid a wand and cloak flying through the air to Moody.  
  
Harry beamed. "My cloak and my wand!"  
  
"Where is Minerva's?" asked Lupin  
  
Moody frowned for a second before raising an eyebrow. "How stupid of me. Her wand won't answer to me."  
  
Harry was glad for once he wasn't the only one looking confused.  
  
Tonks firmly stated, "A wand can't tell who calls it."  
  
Moody's only response to Tonks was a snort. Approaching McGonagall, Moody reversed his wand and offered it to her. "Call your wand."  
  
Harry was happy to see though she was still pale, McGonagall was following the conversation. McGonagall shook her head. "No point, Alastor. If I use your wand to call mine, than you won't have a wand. Easier to have Ollivander bring me a new one to tomorrow night's meeting than for you to have to go to all the trouble of going to Diagon Alley and finding a wand that likes you."  
  
Now Harry worried. Maybe Professor McGonagall wasn't really improving. What she said, it just didn't make sense. Why couldn't she hand Moody's wand back after?  
  
Apparently Moody could follow what she was saying though, because he began to gently insist. "I would rather have you duel wielding wands and me carry none, than have you unarmed."  
  
Professor McGonagall considered this for a moment before coming up with an alternative solution.  
  
"Remus, give me your wand hand. You try calling my wand."  
  
Lupin shrugged at Moody and did as he was told. "Accio Minerva's wand."  
  
"What's that noise?" asked Shacklebolt.  
  
A high pitched whistle could be heard, rapidly getting closer.  
  
Moody called out, "Wands at the ready!"  
  
Harry raised his wand and looked into the darkness to see what was causing the noise. Suddenly, Loki jumped past him to knock Lupin and McGonagall to the ground. The whistling stopped abruptly as McGonagall's wand slammed into the trunk of a tree directly behind where Lupin and McGonagall had been standing. The wand hit with such force, half of it disintegrated on impact.  
  
After getting to his feet, Lupin grinned at McGonagall and helped her up.  
  
"Little less force next time, eh Remus." Shacklebolt laughed. "Nice pick up there Loki. You okay?"  
  
Loki was on his knees, but hadn't stood up yet. Apparently the man had finally found something that didn't tickle his funny bone, because his face was twisted into an expression of absolute agony. Horrid, red blisters were beginning to form on the man's hands. Loki quickly tried to hide his hands in his cloak, but everyone had already seen them.  
  
Moody was looking back and forth between the man on the ground and Professor McGonagall. Everyone looked shocked, even Professor McGonagall. It was Tonks who spoke first.  
  
"You…you're one of them?!"  
  
Loki blushed and smiled sheepishly. "You have a very firm grasp on the obvious, Tonks."  
  
Harry wondered why no one pointed their wand at Loki. He raised his own to the man. "You're a Death Eater?"  
  
"Gods no boy!" gasped Loki.  
  
"Than … one of what?" asked Harry.  
  
Moody shook his head. "Potter, the burns on his hands, they are from touching Minerva."  
  
"I thought that was just a story to frighten children!" Tonks's eyes looked in danger of falling out. "You're a changeling!"  
  
Harry remembered Bellatrix had called Professor McGonagall a changeling, but he just assumed it was a reference to her animagus ability.  
  
"But how?" asked Mundungus. "The last of the line of Themis have been very carefully monitored for hundreds of years. Everyone knows how the Ministry missed Minerva, but how did you get by too?" He looked at the silver haired man before him. "Who's your mother? Never mind that was a stupid question, if you are a changeling you don't know. Exactly how old are you?"   
  
When Harry still looked baffled, Moody snapped. "I know you were raised by muggles, but don't you ever pay attention in History of Magic class?"  
  
Not wanting to admit the truth about what he did in History of Magic class, Harry tried to put a knowing expression on his face. He was getting more than a little tired of not knowing things that were common knowledge to other wizards his age. Hopefully someone would say something to explain things soon and if not he would wait and ask Hermione. She might be muggle born, but if there was a book written on the subject she would know the answers.  
  
Lupin knew no students actually paid attention in Binn's classes so he tried to help. "Harry, Loki can't touch Minerva, Professor McGonagall rather, because they are blood related."  
  
Seeing the look on Harry's face, he backtracked and tried again. "You know about changelings from muggle fairy tales right?"  
  
Harry was a little uncertain. "Fairies steal children, usually babies and replace them with their own so people raise them for them?"  
  
Lupin nodded. "Only it didn't start out a fairy tale. The fairy tale started from what the Themis line did with their male offspring. For various reasons we won't get into now, they only follow the matrilineal line and didn't want male children. Rather than destroy them, they used to put them in the place of children born to other powerful wizard families. Since changelings don't know who their real relatives are, an enchantment was used to protect the integrity of the blood line from… well from unintentional inbreeding. If they accidentally touch a female of their lineage, it burns the male as a warning."  
  
"Is it permanent?"  
  
"No." Loki answered. "I only touched Kitten for a few seconds. These will fade by the time we get to Headquarters."  
  
What happens if you touch her for longer? Like if you hold hands?"  
  
Loki grimaced. "My hand would turn to ash and fall off. Moody shouldn't we be going?"  
  
Moody looked at Loki and snorted. In a false, sweet voice, Moody started talking. "Oh, don't worry Alastor. I'll take the kitten over to the Disposal of Magical Creatures Department and get her checked out to see if she is venomous. Let me borrow your cloak to throw over her, so she doesn't bite me too." In his regular voice he continued. "You knew all along. The burns on your neck weren't from some spell Grindelwald did."  
  
Still Loki had that sheepish grin. "What would you have had me do, Alastor? Send a seven year old off to the Dementors? Or worse, let her go live with the Malfoys or Blacks?" Seeing Harry's shocked expression, Loki added, "Before his time, Harry. Even Sirius didn't like his family members." Loki shrugged. "So I took one out of the old Themis family playbook and left the matter up to the fates to decide."  
  
Harry sighed. He really hoped Hermione would know what these people were talking about, because they certainly weren't making sense to him.  
  
"And you!" Moody turned his outrage onto Professor McGonagall. "You knew what he was all this time and never said a word to -"  
  
Moody trailed off as he saw the way McGonagall was holding her wrist. Again the concerned growl came out. "Is it broken?"  
  
McGonagall nodded. "I landed on it wrong when Loki charged into us."  
  
"We should get moving. We're only a few minutes from headquarters. Molly Weasley has had lots of experience with broken bones from what I hear. One of us could try to fix it, but better to wait if you can manage it."  
  
McGonagall nodded again. Harry could see she was in pain from the wrist, but color had begun to return to her face. After handing Lupin the pouch that formerly contained Armando Dippet's chess set and ensuring he knew the spell needed to transfigure it to a basket, McGonagall turned back to Moody.  
  
"And Alastor, I am just as surprised as you. Loki never told me either."  
  
Moody frowned. "But if you didn't know, then why out of all the possible aurors, did you pick him?"  
  
Now it was Minerva's turn to frown. She tilted her head, concentrating before answering. "It was the hair."  
  
Moody just stared at her.  
  
McGonagall blushed. "I thought he was a unicorn."  
  
Moody frowned more.  
  
McGonagall snapped at him. "And just how worldly do you think you would have been at seven if you spent your whole life shut up in the same six rooms? I just remembered unicorns had beautiful long silver hair."  
  
Moody just shook his head and quietly expressed his disbelief. "How would you remember what a unicorn looked like?"  
  
Not getting a response, he turned to Lupin. "What's the hold up?" He frowned after a glance at the scowling Malone who was trying to yank the basket off of Lupin's broom. "Oh for Merlin's sake just attach the bloody basket to Potter's broom so we can go before anything else happens."  
  
"What about him?" asked Shackleton pointing to Loki.  
  
Moody shrugged. "Males are useless. Ministry doesn't track them."  
  
Harry felt a little better looking at Professor McGonagall. Sure she had a very annoyed expression during the whole discussion, but that was much more normal for her than her earlier behavior.  
  
Once McGonagall was inside the basket they took to the air again.  
  
For the rest of the short trip, everyone was quiet except Tonks.  
  
"I thought changelings were just a story to frighten children. When I was little my mother used to always threaten me, 'Nymphadora if you don't start behaving I'm going to leave you out and hopefully get myself a nice changeling instead.' I thought she was full of it. I mean sure everybody knows about Professor McGonagall, but that is a little different. I didn't know there were more. So how exactly are you two related to each other? I mean do you know? Is there a way to tell? You don't keep records on that do you? Cause what if someone found them? Then they could finish hunting down all of you. Loki can you read my mind? Or see the future? Oh, or start fires with your mind? Do you even need a wand to do magic? Aren't you supposed to be really good at wand-less magics? Can you apporated other people? Or transfer your powers to other people? What about …  
  
Harry was glad to see he wasn't the only one with questions.  
  
When Tonks first started talking, feline McGonagall gave Tonks what surely would have been a scathing look in human form. In cat form, it wasn't nearly as impressive and Tonks missed it. Now, McGonagall had long since turned away and was ignoring the other woman.  
  
Loki did turn to look at Tonks. "Why the hell would anyone want to read your mind?  
  
Missing the point, Tonks continued, "Well, do you have any special powers or abilities?  
  
You mean like can I turn myself invisible at will?" With that, both the annoyed Loki and his broom disappeared.  
  
Tonks frowned. "Oh, that's terribly disappointing. I mean it is nice and all, but lots of other people can do that. Well, not lots of people, but well you know, people can do that. Dumbledore can do that." Tonks eyes widened again. "Dumbledore isn't a Themis too is he?"  
  
Moody snorted. "I should certainly think not. If he were, he would be ash long ago."  
  
From the way, feline Professor McGonagall whirled around in the basket and glared, Harry thought it a good thing for Moody that cats can't cast spells. 


	5. Chapter 5

Once they were finally in the air again, the trip to the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters didn't last long.  
  
As they landed outside 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry again felt his grief for the loss of his Godfather. Now, however, he finally began to realize even without Sirius, he was not alone. His family might be gone, but outside with him and waiting inside for him were other people who cared for him.  
  
Before they could even reach the door, it opened of its own accord. Out stepped a hat with a stuffed vulture attached. At once, Harry recognized the older woman wearing it and hid a smile at the memory of a certain boggart. As she began to berate Mad-Eye Moody, Harry felt a large upsurge of sympathy for both the auror and Neville Longbottom.  
  
"What took you so long, Alastor? We have all been waiting here worried sick. The group after yours is already back and the next one is due. You should have been here -"  
  
As the woman scanned the group, her gaze fell on Professor McGonagall and her voice faltered for a moment. Looking at the young, at least to her, woman she took in the sight of the disheveled woman cradling a broken wrist with dried blood still spattering her dress. Mrs. Longbottom frowned, but not unkindly. In a much calmer voice, she continued speaking.  
  
"Come on inside, Minerva. Let's get you cleaned up."  
  
She sent a piercing look at Moody. "You know better, Alastor. She shouldn't be out like this. Not with things the way they are. It's not safe for her."  
  
Turning back to Professor McGonagall, she spoke again. "Come with me dear, I can fix that wrist easy enough. Merlin knows, Neville has given me more than enough practice. We'll just find an empty room."  
  
When McGonagall made no move to go with Mrs. Longbottom, the woman spoke again. "If you prefer, I can get Molly Weasley. She's in the kitchen."  
  
McGonagall took only a moment to respond. "No. No, need to bother Molly. I am certain you can manage it."  
  
Mrs. Longbottom gave a reassuring smile. The two women walked off together to the sitting room. It didn't start off empty, but Mrs. Longbottom quickly had it cleared out and closed the door.  
  
As another group of aurors landed, Harry asked, "What other groups?"  
  
Moving into the house, Loki explained. "Rather than send a single large escort like last summer, small groups have been leaving your aunt's house every fifteen minutes all night. The hope was to confuse any Death Eaters and draw them out to attack the wrong group. We suspected the reason Lucius was asking for a trial was to give Voldemort a chance to get you out in the open."  
  
Moody snorted. "Didn't quite work like planned, but you arrived safe so mission accomplished."  
  
"Kind of risky though." said Harry. "I mean they picked the right group. With so few of us, it could have turned out very differently."  
  
Loki shook his head. "You were with Kitten. She would never let anything bad happen to one of her children."  
  
Harry was stunned. Suddenly something clicked in his mind. The sensation he felt when Professor McGonagall touched his skin, that pleasant burning. Loki was related to her and he felt burning when he touched her too. Harry was not yet an adult by wizard standards so maybe the enchantment didn't actually harm him yet. If changelings hid their children in other families….  
  
The shock in his voice was incredible. "Professor McGonagall is my mother?"  
  
Loki looked at him like he was an idiot.  
  
"Charms and potion lessons are all well and fine, but what ever happened to Literature? Children today have no sense of figurative and metaphoric."  
  
Watching Loki walk away in disgust, Harry noticed the portrait of Mrs. Black remained covered and silent.  
  
Still blushing, Harry asked Moody a question that had been bothering him since before the summer. "Why did our own Ministry people use four stunners on Professor McGonagall without warning?"  
  
Moody looked Harry in the eye. "We haven't had a chance yet to talk about what happened earlier tonight, but I rather imagine from what you saw, you already know the answer to that. If you are going to attack Minerva McGonagall you catch her off guard and you damn well better incapacitate her with the first blow or you won't get a second chance."  
  
Harry considered this for a moment before asking another question. "When they hit Professor McGonagall with the Crucio spell, it didn't effect her. She cast through it. I want to learn to do that. Is it occlumency or some other thing like that?"  
  
The look on Moody's face told Harry he had said something very wrong. At Harry's words, he looked so horrified. There was something else in his face, but Harry couldn't place the other emotion. Malone's head was down, but Harry could see the flush spreading across his face. He turned to Lupin, but there was no help there either.  
  
It was Tonks who gently broke it to him. "Harry, there isn't a way to resist Crucio. It's just something you can get used to after a while if you don't…"  
  
Lupin was still watching the door Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Longbottom had disappeared behind. He turned to Moody and tilting his head hesitantly asked, "Do you think that's wise?"  
  
When Moody didn't have an answer, Lupin started to head towards the door. Malone put a hand out to stop him. "The hell you will. Moody can go."  
  
Lupin sighed. Moody nodded. After crossing the room he knocked and entered the sitting room.  
  
Watching the exchange, Harry had finally had enough. Malone McGonagall's dislike of werewolves was sickening.  
  
"Just because a person is a werewolf one night out of the month, doesn't give you the right to treat them like trash all the rest of the month."  
  
The look of confusion on Malone's face made Harry think he might have made another wrong assumption.  
  
Malone's response, "You're a werewolf?" confirmed it. "That's just lovely. I can honestly say it could not have happened to a nicer fellow."  
  
"Bite me." was Lupin's cheeky reply.  
  
Tonks looked outraged, but Shacklebolt wandered away from the group with a laugh.  
  
Harry was reassured to discover Professor McGonagall's nephew was not in fact a racist. Remembering Lupin's comment about going to school with Malone, he assumed the dislike was something relating back to that.  
  
Before he could say anything else to make himself look like an idiot, someone tried to smother Harry in a hug. When Hermione finally released him, she immediately began to rant.  
  
"Harry we were getting so worried. We expected you a lot earlier. We heard you broke the restriction on the use of magic by underage wizards again. Then they said you used an Unforgivable on a Ministry owl trying to deliver a warning letter to you. Dumbledore went to find out what happened and straighten everything out with the Ministry. What were you thinking?"  
  
Harry didn't even try to answer Hermione as now Ginny pulled him into a hug. Looking up, he saw Ron, Neville and Luna standing alongside Hermione. He gave a wave to the others.  
  
"Oi Harry." Ron grinned.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Looking further into the house, for the first time he noticed the rather large crowd of people milling around the Black house for the early morning hour and amended the question. "What are all of these people doing here?"  
  
It was Ginny's turn to talk. "We were waiting for you to get here for the meeting to start. Of course now Dumbledore is gone, so we can't start anyways."  
  
Neville grinned. "Dumbledore says we are all allowed to come to meetings now. My Gran wasn't too pleased. Since we go to the Wizengot day after tomorrow, well actually by now its just tomorrow, and that's what tonight's meeting is about, she brought me."  
  
As Neville spoke, Harry noticed Moody and Mrs. Longbottom come back into the room. The soft look faded from Mrs. Longbottom's face as soon as she was out of the room. From across the way, Harry couldn't hear what was being said. He could however, tell from the new expression the man was being berated again. Professor McGonagall did not come out but Harry could see her in the background of the room. Her hair was not in it's usual bun, but the tangles were gone. After Mrs. Longbottom walked away, Moody remained to keep watch at the door.  
  
Finding it odd that Moody felt the need to still stand guard inside the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry put aside the questions he wanted to ask Hermione and excused himself from the group to go investigate.  
  
Ever vigilant, Moody noticed Harry approaching. With a wave of his wand, the door closed. Watching both of Moody's eyes follow after Professor McGonagall until the door closed safely behind her, Harry had a sudden revelation. Before he could think to stop himself, he had said it aloud.  
  
"You're in love with her."  
  
The natural eye turned to him, while the blue one kept vigil through the door. Moody said nothing.  
  
Suddenly feeling very awkward, Harry wanted nothing more than to have not said the last few words. But having already said them, he couldn't help but explain. "Sorry. It's just the look in your eyes…err well eye at least, the way you watch her…It's the way Ron looks at Hermione." He finished boldly, looking Moody directly in the eye. "You should tell her."  
  
Moody returned Harry's gaze for a moment before stating matter-of-factly, "I have known Minerva almost all of her life. She will never see me as anything but a monster."  
  
Seeing Harry's fallen expression, Moody went on. "No, I don't mean my face and leg. She could never be that shallow. I mean the person on the inside."  
  
Moody gave a twisted half smile while looking past Harry at someone entering the house. "Besides, I thought you were supposed to be one of the clever ones? Surely in five years you picked up on something."  
  
Harry was silent as Moody walked away. Moody stopped when he reached the newly arrived Albus Dumbledore. They were close enough that Harry could hear Moody's report.  
  
Dumbledore glanced at Harry and sent him a smile. Unsure if Harry was still angry at him, Dumbledore did not try to approach him. Harry returned a small smile at Dumbledore in greeting, but kept his distance. Oddly enough, after the nights events, he was feeling happier and more secure, but he wasn't ready to completely let go of his anger at Dumbledore just yet. Still the small smile seemed good progress to Dumbledore, because a twinkle came to his eyes before he turned back to Moody.  
  
"I see Harry has arrived safely. What happened?"  
  
Harry could tell Moody was sequencing his statements carefully. "Everyone arrived safe. One small injury, a broken wrist, after the fact. It has already been taken care of. Did you know Minerva was coming?"  
  
The startled look on Dumbledore's face clearly answered that question. Moody smirked. "I would certainly love to know that woman's source of information. If I asked her, I'm sure I would just be told it was common sense we were moving him tonight or a song and dance about wind conditions. I don't buy it and I still would like to know how she managed to be at 4 Privat Drive all day fourteen years ago, before anyone even - "  
  
"Moody!" Interrupted Dumbledore, "What happened with Minerva? Where is she?"  
  
Harry had never seen Dumbledore look frantic before. Moody caught the look as well and began to explain.  
  
"She is fine Albus. We were being followed and some of us stopped to deal with it. I sent Minerva and Potter ahead. It was a trap. I don't know the details, you will need to talk to Potter for that, but by the time we caught up with them…Minerva and Potter had taken care of things."  
  
"Where is she?"  
  
Moody motioned behind him to the door. Without another word, Dumbledore crossed to the door.   
  
Harry had a good view into the room when Dumbledore opened the door. Professor McGonagall was at the window, one hand still at the pendant on her neck. As soon as Dumbledore entered, they both began to cross the distance. Harry looked on as they met in the middle and embraced. There was no awkwardness, it looked as if it was something they did every day. Professor Dumbledore's back was to Harry, but he imagined the man's face had something like the look of relief and affection clearly displayed on Professor McGonagall's face.  
  
With a flick of his wand, Moody closed the door giving the two Professors some much needed privacy. "Go find a new hobby Potter. Peeping isn't very rewarding."  
  
Both eyes facing forward, Moody walked away. 


	6. Chapter 6

Albus opened the door. He could see Minerva across the room. Her back was to him as she looked out the window. As soon as he entered the room, she turned. He was the only one Moody would have allowed in without knocking.  
  
In his haste, to be near her, he didn't even close the door. As she met him halfway across the room, their arms found their usual places in the all too familiar embrace. Neither noticed Moody close the door for them.  
  
Silently, they remained entwined in each others arms. Albus was the first to speak. His voice was tinged with worry and relief. "I thought you were staying home to rest tonight. I was going to wake you up and tell you about the meeting over a game of chess."  
  
"I seem to recall my needing to rest was your idea. But I was planning to, I just changed my mind."  
  
"Why Minerva? You know it's not safe for you to …" His voice trailed off.  
  
Still holding her and being held by her too tightly to properly see her, he could only hear her smile. "You know I adore hearing you give ridiculously long winded speeches. How could I pass up the opportunity tonight?"  
  
"Oh, Minerva. Sometimes you frighten me dreadfully."  
  
She squeezed tighter. "I was home and no one else was there."  
  
Albus nodded. "I had forgotten - even Peeves?" He interrupted himself.  
  
Minerva nodded against him. "He is still mad at Argus, for working with Dolores to try to get rid of him."  
  
Albus chuckled. "As if Dolores Umbridge could ever have managed that. I don't know who to be more disappointed in, Argus for trying or Peeves for actually seeing them as a threat."  
  
The smile became more obvious in her voice. "Argus is going to visit relatives in Ireland for a few weeks. Peeves decided to accompany him. I don't think Peeves informed him." Her voice was more serious now. "So, I was all alone and I didn't feel like being home alone."  
  
Albus smiled. "So instead, you decided to come here to a house full of people and stand in a room alone."  
  
"Yes, well when you put it that way." The sarcastic quality had crept back into her voice. Her voice softened again. "I stopped by to check on Harry. There was an attack while I was with him. I lost my wand. I lowered my …" Here she struggled to find a word, " defenses so I could use Harry and his wand. I have not managed to get them back up yet, a fact I am sure you noticed as soon as you walked in the door. So somehow it didn't seem like a good idea to be walking around chatting with the others."  
  
"Ah, but my dear, I always feel an incredible surge of electricity pass through me whenever we touch regardless. Though, I do believe it is a good thing Harry has two months before he is supposed to be using a wand. Hopefully by then, it will have dissipated and the first time he tries to light a fire under his cauldron, he won't set the whole potions room on fire."  
  
"They used Crucio on Harry. I tried to get in the way, but I was not always able. He was in so much pain, Albus. I barely even felt it. It's not like I can not tell it is there, but it does not really mean anything to me. After it was … it was more what it reminded me of, that effected me. Remus was there afterwards."  
  
His face was a mask of pain as she described the curse. "I'm glad Remus was there. I'm glad someone you could trust was with you."  
  
Both were silent, just holding each other for a time.  
  
"Come," said Albus, waving his wand and taking a step back. "You will never get your defenses back up this tense. You need to relax."  
  
Minerva could not help but smile. "While I certainly find that very relaxing, do you really think this is the time?"  
  
Looking at the bed, he had transfigured from a chair, Albus smiled. "That's not what I meant." He lead her by the hand to the bed. "Just lie down."  
  
Minerva mock pouted as he adjusted the covers over her and smoothed the hair from her face. "You sir, are a tease. I for one think it would be very exciting, knowing all those people are in the next room."  
  
Albus chuckled softly. "This from the woman, who petitioned the Ministry of Magic to hang a picture of Armando Dippet in it's halls just so Armando would have a place to go other than my office?"  
  
"Not just," corrected Minerva. "Are you denying Armando deserved to have his portrait hung there?"  
  
Albus traced a finger over the pendant on her neck. "Certainly not. I just thought you might prefer to wait for that till we were home, but as always, anything you wish."  
  
He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. After a few soft kisses, she pulled away.  
  
"Mr. Dumbledore, are you calling my bluff?"  
  
Albus's eyes twinkled as one of his fingers found it's way behind her ear. "I do believe I am my dear."  
  
"Hold me."  
  
"As you wish." He answered, laying on top of the covers beside her. He wrapped one arm around her waist and the other across her back. As he pulled her close, she tucked her head under his chin and inhaled his scent.  
  
After a few minutes, she spoke. Her voice was quiet, the teasing quality gone. "I did things, Albus."  
  
He tightened his hold on her.  
  
"Horrible things."  
  
He could hear the unshed tears in her eyes. "I know love."  
  
"I did not want to do them. I did not like doing them."  
  
He tipped her head, making her look in his eyes. He stroked his thumb along her cheek before responding. "You did what you had to do. They would have hurt Harry. You know they would have."  
  
He kissed her forehead before laying his head right next to hers on the pillow. Still his thumb caressed her cheek. His warm, understanding pools of blue looked into her unsettled gray eyes.  
  
"Sometimes, I think of how wonderful it would be to just run away from all this." She sighed. "To just do what I used to do."  
  
Albus nodded understandingly. "Ah, but what would you try this time? Let me guess. Something graceful like a seahorse or a gazelle? No, maybe an actual lioness? Or perhaps since some of your students seem to think you breath fire, you could try a dragon?"  
  
Her lips twitched. "Hagrid would be most pleased. No, but unfortunately that is not really an option anymore."  
  
"Ah and what pray tell, could ever stop you from what you desire?"  
  
She shrugged her shoulders before reaching up to trace a finger along the bumps of his nose and then his lips. "Would be a little difficult getting all the people I care about to come with me."  
  
"Very true." Agreed Albus. "After all, even if you could convince them all to go, what would you do with them all? Even a bee hive or an ant hill couldn't support all the people you have come to care about over the years. Do you know, I do believe this year will be your fortieth year teaching. That's an awful lot of students and former students. Add in all the colleagues, parents, Order members, and other friends you have here, not to mention family…"  
  
She smiled sadly. "I am just so tired of being afraid all the time. Not for myself, but for you, Harry, Neville, the Weasleys, all the Order people, and even Alastor and Severus. Sometimes, I am even afraid for…" She broke off.  
  
He waited patiently for her to continue.  
  
"Maybe it is good. He has finally returned and it is in the open. Now we can do something and then get on with our lives without the constant weight of You-Know-Who on our -"  
  
"Minerva," He interrupted. "I can not believe you of all people will not speak his name."  
  
Minerva frowned. "I will not call him by that utterly ridiculous title he made up for himself. Of all the foolish, idiotic things.." There was a definitive sadness to her voice now. "And I just can not reconcile myself to that monster having ever been Tom Riddle. My Tom was caring and gentle. He took care of me and loved me. He never would have .." Here her voice failed for a minute. All the blinking in the world couldn't keep at least a few tears from escaping now.   
  
More to prove she could continue, than for the benefit of the man beside her who already knew all this, she went on. "My Tom never would have done…those despicable things…not to me."  
  
Before speaking, he closed the small distance between them to kiss the tears away from her cheeks, as he always did when they escaped.  
  
"You know that when I hate you  
  
It is because I love you  
  
To a point of passion that unhinges my soul."*  
  
The melancholy of her soft voice filled the room. "Sometimes, I wonder if things could have been different. If I had stayed with him, could he have become a different person than what he is now? Would it have made a difference?"  
  
"Oh Minerva, sometimes what we see of a person, what they choose to show us, is just one side of who they are. Tom choose his path long before he met you. I need not remind you, he killed a fellow student long before you entered his life."  
  
They held each other in contemplative silence.  
  
Albus picked up her hand and kissed her wrist. "Alastor said your wrist was broken. All better now?"  
  
Minerva smiled at him. "Kisses do wonders." More seriously she continued. "'Michael's mother took care of it."  
  
He scanned her face for a moment, before he allowed his eyes to twinkle. "I suspect she has a knowledge of minor injuries equal to our own Madame Pomfrey."  
  
Minerva had a rather thoughtful look when she spoke again. "She brushed my hair too. It was rather tangled from flying. She was very sweet to me."  
  
"Ollivander will no doubt be quite jealous should he learn about that."  
  
Minerva couldn't help but laugh at that. "It is not funny. That man is seriously disturbed."  
  
He kissed her.  
  
"Are you not supposed to be conducting a meeting right now?"  
  
Albus raised an eyebrow. "Ah yes, well they can wait if they want to hear what I have to say."  
  
"You should go. Give your ridiculously long speech and then listen to Fudge drone on and on about, well about whatever it is he chooses to go on about tonight."  
  
"But it's much nicer in this room." Albus argued playfully. "For one thing, there is no Cornelius Fudge in here. More importantly, there is you here. Also - "  
  
Albus was interrupted by Minerva's lips. As she returned her head to the pillow after the kiss, he spoke again. "Yes, well that is a clear demonstration of reason number two why it is much nicer in this room."  
  
Putting her nose right up to his, she said, "The sooner you start, the sooner you finish, and the sooner we can go home."  
  
"You have a valid point, my dear. Home with you there is most definitely even nicer than this room with you here."  
  
Sitting up, he kissed her hand again before standing completely. "Are you alright to stay here?"  
  
She took his hand and bringing it to her face, kissed it as well. "I will come out and join the meeting in a few minutes."  
  
He nodded. "I shall see you soon I expect, my dear Professor McGonagall.  
  
* J. de Lespinaisse 


	7. Chapter 7

Harry watched Moody begin walking away only to be intercepted by a newly arrived Cornelius Fudge. When had Fudge joined the Order?  
  
Fudge eyed Harry suspiciously before putting on the fakest smile Harry had ever seen. The annoyance was clear in his voice. "So nice to see you are following Ministry orders, Moody. I wasn't aware Potter was being moved tonight."  
  
Moody shrugged non-committally. "We planned the date last meeting. You were there."  
  
Fudge was fuming. "We agreed on tomorrow as the date."  
  
Moody tapped the watch on his wrist and then held it up to his ear. "I'll be damned. My watch stopped. It had the wrong date. No wonder everybody kept telling me we should wait for tomorrow."  
  
Watching the expression on Fudge's face, Harry had to suppress a laugh. Fudge could tell something wasn't right in what Moody had said, but he was too stupid to realize what it was. If Moody's watch stopped, he should be a day late, not early.  
  
Fudge looked frighteningly like Dudley when he scowled. "Well, where did Dumbledore wander off to? He was right in front of me getting here. Let's get the meeting started."  
  
"I don't know where he went, Minister. Said something about needing more lemon sherbets. I'm sure he will be back soon."  
  
"Lemon sherbets? At a time like this? With all these people waiting? That's very inconsiderate."  
  
Moody shrugged. "Excuse me, Minister."  
  
Moody quickly crossed the room and began a conversation with Snape.  
  
Harry watched Fudge eyeing Moody suspiciously for a moment before wandering back to the others. It was time to satisfy some of his curiosity.  
  
"Mione, what's a changeling?"  
  
He was not at all surprised by Hermione's exaggerated sigh. He would have been more surprised without it.  
  
"Really, Harry. Not all of Binn's lessons are boring. Well, at least, not all are as boring as listening to him go on and on about Goblin Rebellions. Although, we should invite Dobby and some of the other house elves to one of Binn's goblin lectures. They might -"  
  
"-Hermione! Down girl. It's summer vacation." Ron pleaded. "Oy and you Harry. What's wrong with you? Asking a school question? Somebody get Moody, I think they brought a Death Eater back by mistake."  
  
Everyone else sniggered at Ron's comments, but Harry just waited for them to be done.  
  
"Seriously though. I want to know."  
  
"Well," began Hermione. "You know about muggle fairy tale changelings, right? Fairies or demons replace human babies with their own to trick them into raising them."  
  
Harry interrupted. "Yeah, yeah. Get to the wizard stuff."  
  
After giving Harry an annoyed look, Hermione continued. "Well supposedly, the muggle fairy tales are based in wizard fact.  
  
Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, during the Great Wizard Purge, before the last of the pure-blood witches and wizards were destroyed -"  
  
"Hold on." Harry interrupted. "What purge? And what last of the pure-bloods being destroyed? Did something happen to the Malfoys and no one told me?"  
  
Hermione snorted. "Harry, never again will I let you copy my History of Magic homework."  
  
Harry knew it wasn't true so he didn't argue. "What purge?"  
  
Hermione gave Harry a snotty look before starting again. "Well you do know that what is now a days considered pure-blood, isn't really pure- blood.  
  
Real pure-bloods were much more magical than wizards today. I'm not sure I believe all the stuff about telekinesis, knowingness, foci, and all those other supposed wand-less abilities and ancient magics. I mean some of those things are just too far out of the realm of reason, but even today there are wizards who practice legilimency, occlumency, animagus transformations, and of course apporation, all of which can be done without a wand. But according to legends, wizards used to be magical enough that they didn't need wands to do spell magic.  
  
Wizards today use dragon heart strings, veela hairs, unicorn hairs and other items from magical creatures to accentuate and bring out their magical powers. For a long time, witches and wizards were magical enough that they didn't need external help to do their magic. There blood was pure magic, hence the term pure-blood.  
  
But eventually, after many generations, there came a time when the blood was showing signs of becoming, well I guess diluted would be the word. More and more witches and wizards were being born who couldn't do magic. Some couldn't do it at all; others could only do it sometimes or couldn't control it very well."  
  
"Squibs." Harry spoke knowingly.  
  
Hermione shook her head before continuing. "That's when the idea of using wands became necessary. By drawing out the magic from other creatures, all the children could do magic."  
  
Not squibs, thought Harry, keeping his mouth closed. Surely the law of averages meant he had to get one right sooner or later. Right?  
  
"Everything went well for generations and supposedly back then, wizards could live for many hundreds of years, so a generation for them was a long time. But fewer and fewer wizards could do magic without wands. Then when a few children began to be born who couldn't do magic even with wands - Yes, Harry squibs - people began to panic.  
  
People started to be afraid of those that didn't need wands to cast spells. They were jealous of their power. They saw them as a threat. There were so few of them left, that it wasn't too difficult to round up most of them and destroy them. Some were given trials, but I mean really it was about as fair as Buckbeak's trial.  
  
The legends start to get really weird with Lachesis Themis." Hermione frowned.  
  
"She was an extremely powerful sorceress. When a mob came for her, she didn't go willingly. She destroyed a whole village before fleeing.  
  
Supposedly she sought protection under a powerful lord. She evaded capture for years living under a Fidelius Charm in a cottage on his estate. The lord was already married, but she bore him two children out of wedlock.  
  
Now eventually, people did come to their senses and realized getting rid of the last few pure-bloods was not the solution. Instead, they decided the last could be put to a much better use in another way, but that's an entirely different story.  
  
But for her crimes, Lachesis still needed to be punished.  
  
In the end, under pressure from the other Lords in the area, her protector gave up her location. But after what she had done to a whole village of wizards, no one wanted to confront her. A bargain was made to send Dementors to retrieve her. The Dementors went, but in the ensuing struggle, Lachesis's daughter was killed.  
  
The Lord, although already married, had no male heirs. So he made certain no harm came to the male child. He took the male child in and claimed him as heir. That caused a problem though, because the Dementors had been promised two souls and with the death of the daughter, only one was left.  
  
When it was discovered Lachesis was pregnant again, the problem was considered solved. With the new child's birth, the previous bargain could be kept. The plan was to keep Lachesis imprisoned until she gave birth. But it was easier said than done.  
  
In the end, the Dementors ended up performing the Kiss on her before the child's birth. Of course she was still technically alive afterwards, but not in any meaningful kind of way. The pregnancy progressed and as soon as the child was born, another girl, she was given over to the Dementors. They performed the Kiss on the infant, but something went wrong -"  
  
"Cycle cyssan fram healf deofel hell feond gebringan idelness." Interrupted Loki in a sad voice. He had returned and was conversing with some of the other adults from Harry's escort. The two groups were close enough to overhear each other's conversations. Now Fletcher, Malone, Tonks, and Lupin stopped their own conversation and listened to Loki along with the children.  
  
"Err, definitely." Nodded Ron, looking at a Loki, who no longer appeared aware of the room.  
  
Loki blinked and looked at Ron for a minute before translating. "Chill kiss from half devil hell fiend brings emptiness. They weren't called Dementors back then."  
  
Loki continued the story in place of Hermione, still with that expression on his face.  
  
"Yes, something did go wrong, horridly wrong. Exactly what went wrong, no one knew for sure. The Kiss had no effect on the infant. Some said since the mother had no soul, the child had never received one. Never possessing one.  
  
Others thought some sort of immunity had been passed on to the child from the mother. A few thought that a newborn didn't have any memories, happy or unhappy for the hell feonds to feed upon. Some just weren't sure what had happened, but given the things Lachesis said before they finally performed the Kiss on her, no one was really surprised that things didn't go according to plan.  
  
Regardless, it was decided the child should be destroyed. Three men were sent to do it. None were proud of the idea of killing an infant, but it needed to be done. They were grown men, but they were afraid of a child just a few days old."  
  
"No, I shouldn't say that." said Loki. "Not afraid of the child really, just of the things Lachesis had said."  
  
"What did she say?" asked Tonks.  
  
Loki ignored her.  
  
"Originally, the plan was for all three to pierce the child with their daggers at once. Thereby sharing and gods willing, diluting the force of the curses Lachesis had put on those she knew would come to harm her only remaining rightful heir.  
  
Two of the men hesitated. They were married and had established lines. The other was unwed and had no heirs. The two prevailed upon the one that for the greater good, he alone should bare the curse.  
  
The one put his blade to the infant's throat. As he pushed it in, he reported a resistance. The blade would not pierce.  
  
Astounded one of the two attempted. He too reported the resistance, but he doubled his efforts and his dagger sank into the infant's chest. As he removed the blade, the divided skin immediately resealed. The same man repeated the action and again he felt the warning resistance and the yielding followed by the resealing. A third try gave the same results, but on the fourth attempt, the resistance was increased. The point of the dagger could no longer be made to pierce.  
  
Bewildered, the third tried. His results were the same as the second man's had been in the beginning. A small resistance, a yielding, and then the repair. Again and again, he sank his blade into the infant. He pierced a different place each time for eight tries. Each time, no lasting effect could be found on the child, yet blood still remained on the dagger. After the eighth time, the resistance would yield no longer for the third man.  
  
The child still lived.  
  
What did it mean? What curse, what protection was it that guarded this infant? What had it meant when the skin varied in the amount of times it would yield to the blade? The men were fearful. They had done what Lachesis had said not to do, they had attempted to end by force her line. They had not succeeded, but still for the attempt, they expected the Themis. The Divine Justice.  
  
But where was it? No harm had befallen them. Perhaps the men began to wonder, Lachesis was not so powerful as had been supposed. Certainly, they had failed in their attempts, but where was the Divine Justice of which she had spoken, against any who tried?  
  
Still the men refused to linger. They left the child to the hell feonds and fled.  
  
As they approached the unbonded man's house, they even began to jest on the matter. But before they could part ways, a servant boy belonging to the second man approached. 'Murder!' He cried, 'Most foul and treacherous murder!'  
  
Again, the men were fearful as they rushed to the second man's cottage. There they found indeed a most foul and treacherous sight. The man's children, all three of them, had been slain. A dagger wound each to the chest.  
  
In a blind panic, the third man rode home. There he found all eight of his little ones dead. Each pierced in a different place.  
  
At last, they knew the meaning of what had occurred earlier. The first man of course had no heirs and so had not been allowed to harm the child. The others had been allowed, but only until they too had no heirs.  
  
After that, no further attempts were made on the child's life. She was left in the care of the hell feonds, until she came of age. When she reentered the wizarding world, she was completely and irretrievably mad. Of course, whether that was from the Kiss or spending seventeen years with only the hell feonds for company, well who can really know."  
  
"But that's just a story isn't it? A legend?" asked Hermione. "No one would really leave a baby with Dementors. And people can't do magic without wands."  
  
"Oh, you would be surprised what some people are willing to do for the supposed greater good." said Loki. "As for wand-less magic, I'm sure it would be possible even today for some people to do, but it is forbidden for the most part to even attempt to train the ability. Apporation and animagus transformations are dangerous to attempt, but that's not why the licenses are so regulated."  
  
Seeing Hermione's disbelief, Loki tried a different tact. "Do you mean to tell me you never did a bit of magic before you got your wand? Before someone came to tell you, you're a witch and gave you your Hogwarts acceptance letter, didn't you always suspect something wasn't quite what it should be? You never got angry or upset and made things happen that shouldn't have?"  
  
Hermione looked torn between agreeing, thereby opening up the possibility that all Loki had said was true, not just legend or trying to further refute his statements. But thinking back to his only trip to the zoo and his rapidly expanding Aunt Marge, Harry nodded.  
  
"That's the way it used to be for everyone all the time." Loki laughed and smiled. "Gods, children used to be such a hazard with all their untapped energies and unbridled emotions. Parents had to be vigilant. Now-a-days, sure occasionally a kid will inflate themselves or make someone disappear, but no more burning all of Rome to the ground."  
  
Loki seemed sad and almost wistful as he continued. "No, all the magic is going out of the world. It's no one's fault really, the so-called pure- bloods might blame the mudbloods, but it's not their doing. After all, there have always been so few of the wizarding sort that if we hadn't begun to breed with muggles we would have ended anyways. It's happening though. Every generation more and more squibs are being born. Someday all the wands and all the Kwikspell courses in the world won't help bring back what used to be-"  
  
"Merlin's beard Loki, you are the voice of doomsday." said Lupin. "I don't think things are that bad."  
  
"No, you don't think so?" asked Loki sadly. "See Ollivander over there? Go talk to him. Ask him how many families haven't produced a squib in the last few generations. Why the only families that still have never produced a squib are the Blacks, the Malfoys, and the Themis. And I don't think we need Ollivander to explain why the Blacks and the Malfoys have such a tragic history of child mortality almost all coincidentally occurring at age ten."  
  
Neville was the one who spoke up to explain it for Harry and Hermione. "Usually as soon as a baby is born to a wizarding family, you can tell they have magical ability. But if you don't have magical abilities, you aren't declared a squib right away. Most turn out to be squibs, but sometimes after a few years abilities show. Eleven is when wizard schooling begins, so officially you aren't declared a squib until then."  
  
The awkward way Neville said this and a comment Neville had made early in their first year of Hogwarts made Harry wonder. Neville once said his family was very excited when he got his letter to go to Hogwarts, they had thought he 'might not be magic enough.' Granted, Neville was never the best and the brightest in classes, excepting Herbology, but he had certainly behaved admirably at the Department of Mysteries. Harry and Neville had been the last of the Hogwarts bunch standing. Surely, Neville hadn't really ever been thought to be a squib?  
  
Again, Tonks asked her question. "What did Lachesis say? Before the Dementors performed the Kiss?"  
  
This time Loki answered. "Well Lachesis was of course angry that her location had been revealed. But more than that, she was outraged that the father of her children had spared the life of one, but bargained away the very soul of the other based on gender.  
  
Now it's said of the gods of old that 'divine favors once bestowed might not be revoked.' And this held not just for the gods. Lachesis could do nothing to remove the protections she had put upon her son and of course she could do nothing to bring back the daughter she had lost. But as for the daughter yet to be born.  
  
She put all her powers and every bit of her magic into protecting that life still growing inside her. Lachesis knew what was to become of her child, what awaited her as soon as she was born. But she vowed that anyone attempting to end, by force, her line would suffer the same fate to theirs.  
  
She decreed that henceforth her line would no longer keep bonds with men. Men would serve their purpose to create new life within the woman, but no part of the man would be retained in the child. Her line would continue matrilineal, without the taint of man.  
  
And that, is why the line of Themis has retained it's pure-blood quality throughout the ages."  
  
Hermione was perplexed. "Okay, so the not keeping bonds with men would be the old marriage blood bonds, right?"  
  
Loki nodded.  
  
"But what's the other part and how after all these centuries can they still be considered pure-bloods?"  
  
Loki readily responded. "Lachesis was a pure-blood. If you start off with a female pure-blood and discount anything ever contributed by a man, any children produced would still be considered pure-bloods. Of course, the males don't retain the pure-bloodedness to the next generation, but the females can carry it for all of eternity."  
  
"That doesn't make any sense." Hermione was starting to get annoyed. "You can't just remove any contribution a father makes towards a child. The very nature of DNA and chromosomes, why the very idea."  
  
"Well, yes." Loki agreed. "But it was a curse. And a powerful one at that. Between that and the whole do they even have souls thing, the whole line is considered damned, just like vampires, werewolves and all the other cursed races that have been created."  
  
"That's the stupidest story I have ever heard. I mean you don't really believe that do you?" asked Hermione skeptically.  
  
Hermione never got her answer because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen. Once again, Harry's life was put in danger as Mrs. Weasley attempted to squeeze the life out of him. Mr. Weasley just greeted Harry with an oversized grin and a nod.  
  
"Oh Harry, we were getting so worried. Why didn't anyone come tell us you had arrived? Really Ron, I thought better of you. Harry, you look thin and pale. Come into the kitchen and I'll make you a sandwich."  
  
Once he recovered from the crushing of his ribs, Harry declined. "Thank you Mrs. Weasley, but I'm not really hungry. Loki and Hermione were just giving some of us a history lesson."  
  
Mrs. Weasley looked at the group suspiciously, but after getting Harry and the others to at least take some butterbeer, she took off to talk with Mrs. Figg.  
  
Trying to get back to his original question, Harry asked, "Okay, but what does any of this have to do with changelings?"  
  
Loki again began to explain. "Well, now the line was matrilineal, but male children were still born. They were not however wanted. But to attempt to destroy them would have potentially brought the protective curse back on the mother. Instead they were given out to be raised by others.  
  
Of course, who would willingly pollute their home with a damned child? It was necessary to trick people into accepting the children. The easiest way was to simply switch the babies with other wizard families as soon as they were born. This worked well for centuries, but eventually people began to suspect something was going on. It became harder and harder to find infants left unattended.  
  
That's where supposedly muggle born wizards come from. After a while it became easier to just leave the male children with non-wizarding families. They didn't know enough to be suspicious, so they often left their babies unattended.  
  
"What did they do with the babies they took?" asked Hermione.  
  
Loki made a hand motion across his neck in response.  
  
Seeing Hermione's horrified reaction, Loki nodded. "Aye, between supposedly being soulless, killing babies, and being responsible for most muggle born wizards, Themis were rather unpopular for years.  
  
Of course, not everyone has a problem with the idea of having their less powerful sons eliminated. For centuries, some of the older families have been known to leave their newborn sons unattended at night in hopes that they could replenish their failing blood lines."  
  
Harry frowned. "They only gave away male children? What about the female babies?"  
  
Loki shook his head. "Females are far too valuable to give away. Besides being pure-blooded, the line has been known to have other abilities."  
  
"If only male children were given away, why did Bellatrix Lestrange call Professor McGonagall a changeling?" Harry wondered aloud.  
  
Loki blushed. "Well, Kitten 'accidentally' got placed with muggles after her mother was murdered by Grindelwald-"  
  
Harry couldn't stop himself from interrupting. "I've heard of Grindelwald! He is mentioned on Professor Dumbledore's Chocolate Frog card."  
  
Loki was clearly irritated. "Sure put it on a Chocolate Frog card and everyone knows about it. Maybe if they ever give the werewolves and hell feonds their own cards then you children will actually learn where they came from-"  
  
"Loki, what language is that? The hell feond bit?" asked Tonks. "It doesn't sound like Latin."  
  
Loki ignored Tonks's question so Hermione tried to answer. I'm not certain, but I think it's Anglo-Saxon or Old English. When I was reading Beowulf, it was in modern English of course, but there were excerpts from the original text. It sounded like that."  
  
Mundungus raised his eyebrows. "And again, I ask, just how old are you, Loki?"  
  
Loki looked awkward for a second before responding. "I do believe I need more butterbeer."  
  
Before he could walk away, Tonks put a hand on his arm. "Loki, your glass is half full."  
  
"Ah, Tonks I do so appreciate the way you see the world. You see the glass as half full. I however see the glass as I see myself - having space for more butterbeer."  
  
Everyone chuckled as Loki made his escape.  
  
"Seriously, does anyone know how old he is? Does anyone ever remember him looking any younger than he does now?" asked Mundungus.  
  
"Oh come off of it, Mundungus. Everyone knows Loki is a crackpot." Was Arthur Weasley's exasperated response.  
  
"I mean it Arthur. He speaks Old English, you heard the way he told that story, you saw his face as he said it all. I am sincerely, beginning to think-"  
  
"I have a much more important question." Interrupted Ron. "He calls Professor McGonagall kitten? Does she know? Cause if she doesn't know, I like Loki and all, but can we tell her and watch her rip into him like she did Umbridge? Cause I don't know about you guys, but I found that entertaining."  
  
Harry saw Hermione open her mouth to tell Ron off, but she stopped when the previously quiet Malone finally joined the conversation.  
  
"Why would she get upset? It is her first name."  
  
Ron looked at Malone like he was crazy. "Professor McGonagall's first name is Minerva. It's on the letterhead of all the notes she used to send to Mum about Fred and George's behavior. Believe me we've had enough to wallpaper the whole house if we wanted."  
  
"Well yes, that was her first, first name. But when she went to live with my grandparents, they didn't know she already had a name so they renamed her."  
  
Ron was horrified. "Your grandparents named her Kitten?"  
  
Malone had a thoughtful expression on his face. "As I seem to recall the way Moody told it, it was actually my father who named her. I must admit, he didn't put much thought into the name, but then he was rather angry at the time. When they left the house that afternoon, my grandparents told him they were going out to get a dog. So you can imagine his disappointment when they brought back her instead."  
  
Harry knew he just had to be missing something. Looking around at the others listening to Malone, he was glad to see for once, he wasn't the only one.  
  
"Is that why Professor McGonagall and her brother didn't get along because of her name? You mentioned before that she didn't admit to having a brother."  
  
"I don't really know." Malone shrugged, but from the expression on his face, Harry suspected there was something more to it.  
  
"I suppose it could have been. My father never spoke of her. My parents died when I was six. After that I went to live with my mother's parents. I never even knew I had an aunt until I was eight. I came across boxes of her medical records playing in the attic on a rainy day. Even my grandparents didn't know she existed."  
  
Malone's eyes drifted to the closed sitting room door.  
  
"I didn't realize Professor McGonagall had any family. She usually stays at Hogwarts for Christmas so I just assumed she didn't."  
  
Harry had an idea of why Professor McGonagall would stay at Hogwarts anyways, but he wasn't going to say anything to Ron right then.  
  
"We aren't very close. We did try Christmas dinner together once when I was younger, but it didn't go well."  
  
"How does Christmas dinner not go well?" asked Ron.  
  
"It was so long ago, I think it was my first or second year at Hogwarts. It was at my grandparent's house and they didn't know she was a witch. I don't even remember anymore what was said or done to upset her. I just remember her going to the fireplace and taking a handful of my parents' ashes out of their urn. She threw them into the fire while yelling, 'Hogsmeade! Hogsmeade!' Then she tried to climb inside the lit fireplace and her dress caught fire. After that, my grandparents never invited her back."  
  
Mundungus wasn't the only one struggling to hold in laughter when Malone finished.  
  
"I remember that year." Lupin was laughing. "Professor Janus, the Muggle Studies professor, told us that the muggles were taking up witch burning again."  
  
Now Hermione had a question. "So you aren't actually blood related to Professor McGonagall, right?"  
  
Malone nodded.  
  
"What luck than that you would happen to be a wizard."  
  
Malone shrugged. "Nothing to do with luck really. When I was younger I used to spend the first two weeks of the summer with her. When I was ten, my Grandmother had a heart attack. My Grandfather was busy with my Grandmother at the hospital so I was sent to spend a few weeks with her. It was during the school year, so she was at Hogwarts. That's actually how I found out she was a witch. It all seemed so wonderful and well magical. When she told me if I wanted to I could come back the following year I jumped at the chance to spend more time with her."  
  
"Right." said Hermione. "But what luck that you should happen to have the magical abilities making you able to attend a wizarding school."  
  
"Oh, I don't have any magical abilities. I just use hers."  
  
Harry had long since given up on trying to make any sense of what Malone said, but he noticed Malone's gaze again come to rest on the door of the sitting room.  
  
"I'm sure Professor McGonagall is alright." Harry tried to assure the older man. Any earlier anger he had towards Malone had quickly evaporated when it became clear the man's dislike of Lupin had nothing to do with lycanthropy. Having seen and heard of a few of the Marauders exploits at school, Harry didn't find it at all unusual that someone who went to school with them would dislike one of them.  
  
"Of course, she is. Dumbledore is with her now." said Lupin.  
  
"I'm sure Professor McGonagall's wrist will be fine. Neville's grandmother has lots of experience with broken things." Harry ducked his head to avoid looking at Neville's blushing face.  
  
Malone McGonagall confused Harry. He was seemed concerned about his aunt, but made no effort to be near her. "I'm sure Moody and Dumbledore would let you go in by her."  
  
"No." Malone shook his head forcefully.  
  
After all they had been through this night, Harry couldn't help being more than a little curious about his Transfiguration Professor's relationship with her nephew. "Why not?"  
  
"As I said earlier, we aren't very close. We haven't spoken since the beginning of my seventh year at Hogwarts."  
  
Even knowing it wasn't any of his business, Harry couldn't stop himself from asking again, "Why not?"  
  
Malone's voice was rather matter of fact as he spoke. "I called her a whore. Told her she was immoral and shouldn't be allowed around children. She told me I was my father's son. After that there really wasn't much left to talk about. Excuse me." With that Malone needlessly brushed past Lupin to go out of the room. 


	8. Chapter 8

"Woo." Ron's response was the first to break the stunned silence.  
  
"He shouldn't have told us that." said Neville, his face red again.  
  
"He shouldn't have told her that." Lupin corrected.  
  
Harry heard something more than anger in Lupin's voice, but he wasn't sure what exactly it was. Tonks's look to Lupin made Harry suspect she had a better idea of it then he did. He didn't get much time to think about it though, because Tonks excused herself and followed after Malone.  
  
"Children," Mr. Weasley's voice was very firm. "I want you all to forget what you just heard. If I ever hear even the suggestion any of you repeated that -"  
  
"Mr. Weasley, I've heard stories worse than that about Professor McGonagall."  
  
Harry and Ron looked at Luna, the shock in their faces obvious.  
  
Mundungus joined the conversation. "Arthur, it's not exactly the world's best kept secret. She made the front page of The Daily Prophet more than once. Minerva's had more than a bit of a scandalous past."  
  
Neville held his head up high to look Mundungus Fletcher right in the eye. "My Gran says Professor McGonagall is a fine, upstanding woman and anyone who says otherwise isn't worth knowing."  
  
"I never said she wasn't a fine woman, quite the contrary. Being a fine woman is what's gotten her in trouble more than a few times." Shot back Mundungus suggestively. "As for the upstanding part, well being as I never had the pleasure personally I couldn't -"  
  
"That's enough Mundungus!" Lupin warned.  
  
At that point, the only thing that saved Mundungus from a bloody nose was the appearance of Molly Weasley. Whether it would have been delivered by Lupin, Arthur Weasley, an oddly menacing looking Neville, or Harry himself wasn't clear.  
  
"What's going on here?"  
  
"Nothing," was Mr. Weasley's too quick response. "Children go get sandwiches."  
  
Luna shrugged.  
  
Looking back and forth from Neville and Luna, Ron said, "Well? Will one of you two explain what that was about? Oy and you Hermione. Why didn't you look even a little shocked back there?"  
  
When no one replied, Ron glared at Hermione. "Come on then. I thought you always had the answer for everything? This not covered in the new edition of Hogwarts: A History?" He teased.  
  
"Really, Ron!" Hermione looked uncomfortable. "One or two things are mentioned in it."  
  
"What!?" asked Harry.  
  
"Oh, well . it mentions.the author suggests." Hermione exploded. "Oh if you're so bloody interested why don't you go read it yourself!"  
  
Hermione's raised voice caught the attention of Arthur and Charlie Weasley.  
  
"What did I just tell you. I don't want any of you talking about this!"  
  
Harry snapped. "I'm still not sure exactly what it is we're not allowed to talk about!"  
  
"Yeah, maybe we should go ask Mundungus. Then at least we would know what not to talk about." added Ron.  
  
The usually benevolent Mr. Weasley looked more furious than Harry had ever seen Mrs. Weasley. Expecting a Howler worthy tongue lashing, Harry was surprised when the older man spoke in a quiet, uncomfortable voice.  
  
"I would just as soon tell you myself, rather than have you hear even more exaggerated versions." Mr. Weasley sighed. "There have been, in the past, a number of stories and rumors that have circulated about Professor McGonagall."  
  
"What kind of rumors?" Harry was genuinely interested.  
  
"Well..supposedly when she first started at Hogwarts, teaching I mean." Mr. Weasley was clearly having trouble picking the words. "There was a man. a muggle. During the summers, she lived with him. This went on for a few years and then.Well purportedly, he suspected.he suspected there was someone else at the school. And well he didn't want her going back."  
  
Arthur paused for a long minute before continuing. "To keep her from leaving . He . He cut off the tips of her fingers so she couldn't fly away. The man was clearly deranged."  
  
"I'll say." said Ron. "He just cut off her fingertips? And how was that supposed to stop her from leaving? I mean, yeah that guy sounds mental."  
  
"Yes, well she nearly died and it became quite a sensation in the papers. A few less reputable reporters-"  
  
Harry noticed Mr. Weasley's eyes couldn't help but drift towards Luna.  
  
"Managed to make quite a story of it and of course Minerva didn't regain really consciousness for nearly a month. So the reporters had carte blanche to write whatever they liked. By the time she could defend herself, the papers had finally moved on. Her claims the man was only a passing acquaintance, well if they made it into the papers at all, it certainly didn't get the front page treatment the allegations against her did."  
  
"Was that it?" Harry knew that couldn't be it. That had a reasonable explanation. Surely even Mundungus Fletcher couldn't have exaggerated just that out to the insinuations he made. McGonagall's own nephew surely would have taken her word over the Rita Skeeters of the world.  
  
"Well, there were rumors when I was in school about an affair with the Potions Master, Professor Pomfrey."  
  
More than one eyebrow went up at the familiar name.  
  
Mr. Weasley noticed. "Yes, he was Madam Pomfrey's husband. Some of the students overheard a rather heated argument with his wife. Mrs. Pomfrey thought Mr. Pomfrey was spending too much time giving Professor McGonagall potion making lessons."  
  
"Why would one Professor be giving another Professor lessons?" Neville asked innocently. After an exasperated sigh from Hermione and a kick from Ron, he said, "Oh, never mind. I get it."  
  
"No, that's just it though. Professor McGonagall was horrible at potions. To this day I don't think she can make a simple sleep draught. Headmaster Dippet had asked Professor Pomfrey to help her make something."  
  
Snape had quietly wandered over. "No, she can't. Minerva McGonagall is quite literally the only person I have ever met who is worse at potions than you, Longbottom. She can ruin the simplest potion just by walking into the room."  
  
Neville blushed at this revelation.  
  
"Why the discussion of Minerva McGonagall's potion making skills anyways?"  
  
"I was just trying to dispel some notions that may have inadvertently gotten to the children," Began Mr. Weasley.  
  
"I like her. She's a good Transfiguration teacher, but I'm not surprised she can't do potions." Luna interrupted. "I heard she was expelled from Hogwarts. She isn't a fully trained witch and Headmaster Dippet only hired her to teach so she would be around to warm his bed at night."  
  
Everyone turned to stare at Luna.  
  
"Isn't it true, when they found him dead, she was still in bed with him?"  
  
Mr. Weasley began to rub his temples. Snape recovered his voice. "Miss Lovegood, who exactly tells you these things? Never mind, I don't want to know."  
  
Not willing to hit a girl, Neville walked away from the group without a word.  
  
Ron spoke up. "Wait, that can't be true. I mean Luna said it, so it can't be true. No way McGonagall got expelled. That's like got to be all misunderstood and not anywhere near the truth-right? Right?"  
  
Luna shrugged. "Dad thinks the Death Eater attack was really a botched Ministry assassination attempt. I mean the only thing that made it look like a Death Eater attack was the Dark Mark above her cottage afterwards. Real attacks don't happen in the middle of the afternoon, they happen in the cover of darkness. Real Death Eaters torture and kill using wands and spells. They rape people, but they don't bathe their victims and they certainly don't drown them in bathtubs.  
  
Snape had had enough. His voice was filled with such fury and malice it was a hiss more than anything else. "Let me assure you Miss Lovegood, your source of information on the habits and conduct of Death Eaters is severely lacking."  
  
Luna began to speak again, but Snape cut her off.  
  
"I was there Miss Lovegood. At Professor McGonagall's house that afternoon and I can assure you it was indeed a Death Eater attack. The Dark Lord bathed her because he wanted to make sure she was clean before - "  
  
Suddenly, Snape realized what he was saying. "I am not having this conversation." Snape turned and walked away without another word.  
  
Remembering something Bellatrix said earlier that night, Harry watched his Potion Master's retreating back with something far beyond his usual revulsion for the man. Standing there, suddenly Harry no longer felt at all curious.  
  
Charlie Weasley, who usually had a kind word for everyone, was the first to speak. "Hey Luna, why don't you tell your dad to go piss up a rope."  
  
Mr. Weasley didn't have to tell them to disperse this time. Ron, Harry and Hermione headed into the meeting room to find seats early. 


	9. Chapter 9

A/N Now that I finally moved past the one chapter I was having such trouble writing, the rest should move much more quickly. At the moment the only slow down is my poor typing skills as the next few chapters are already 90% handwritten.  
  
As soon as I get more feedback on this and the last few chapters I will post some more.  
  
(Yes, that is a not so very subtle attempt to solicit feedback.)  
  
Next chapter has a certain ferret making his appearance.  
  
Again thank you to Laura Kay, petriebird18, Child of the Dawn and Linze for reviewing.  
  
Also if anyone is from England or Scotland I would greatly appreciate a bit of help with some geography for a few later chapters. Please send an email or leave a message of some kind. Mascaret_@hotmail.com (Please note the "_" before the "@")  
  
**************************  
  
Walking into the meeting room, they saw Neville was already there. They sat by him in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes.  
  
Harry looked around the room. They weren't the only ones already waiting in the room. He hadn't realized hanging outside the meeting room last summer, just how many people were in the Order of the Phoenix.  
  
This year, Hagrid was around to attend the meetings. He was just entering the room with Madame Maxime. He waved to Harry before trying to find seats for himself and his lady friend in the front.  
  
"Eh budge up 'ould ya. Budge up."  
  
The people seated at the end of the row moved further down to allow the two half giants space. The people now seated behind Hagrid and Madame Maxime could no longer see the podium. Harry smiled as he watched them change seats.  
  
Mr. Ollivander was already seated further down the row behind Hagrid.  
  
Harry's eyes wandered the room until he met the gaze of Amos Diggory. He quickly looked down, his face flushed. When he dared look up again, he was pleased to see Cedric's father was no longer looking intently at him. Now the man's gaze was fixated on the open double doors.  
  
Harry couldn't stand looking into the man's eyes. Since the final event of the TriWizard Tournament, it didn't take a legilimency expert to read the thoughts in his eyes. 'Why my Cedric? Why not Harry Potter?'  
  
"What is it with you two?" asked Ron.  
  
Harry faced Ron. "Oh, I was just surprised. I didn't realize all these people were Order members."  
  
Harry wondered why Neville was starring at Diggory too.  
  
Hermione's voice was low. "Quiet, Harry. Actually, not all of them are. This is the decoy headquarters now."  
  
Harry's confusion was as always obvious.  
  
"Well, with Sirius arriving at the Ministry of Magic with all the other Order members, everyone knows he was working with us. Between that and the Kreacher problem, this place isn't really secure anymore. Fudge and some of the others were invited and a few non-crucial meetings are held here so they think this is still headquarters."   
  
Ron chimed in as well. "Dumbledore hasn't told us where the new headquarters are being set up, but he did say it was going to be in a place where we could still attend some meetings during the school year."   
  
Harry nodded. That made sense. But why was Neville still watching Amos Diggory? Neville's eyes traveled from Mr. Diggory, to the two doors, to his Gran in one of the first rows, and back to Diggory.  
  
What was going on? What was that look on Neville's face?  
  
Harry strained his neck to look out the double doors. What was so interesting out there? A few people were milling in front of them, but that was nothing interesting.  
  
When a door past the people opened, Dumbledore stepped out of the sitting room. Harry didn't see Professor McGonagall leave with him. Professor Dumbledore paused in the hall for a moment to have a word with Lupin before entering the meeting room and being cornered by Minister Fudge.  
  
Once Dumbledore came into the meeting room, the room became crowded as everyone else moved inside to find seats before the meeting started.  
  
Neville's eyes were still on Mr. Diggory.  
  
Amos Diggory's eyes hadn't followed Dumbledore to the meeting room. They were still fixed on the again closed sitting room door. When Diggory rose and began to try to find a route to the double doors through all the people, Neville rose as well.  
  
"I promised my Gran I would sit with her."  
  
Without another word, Neville made his way surprisingly quickly to his Gran's side. More than a few shocked glances went Neville's way as the usually polite young man shoved his way through the milling crowds repeatedly saying "Excuse me."  
  
Neville's grandmother noticed his approach. She gave him a questioning look. Harry watched her meet Neville's eyes. Then Neville looked to Cedric Diggory's dad, still trying to fight the crowds and leave the room.  
  
Neville's Gran's eyes went to Diggory and then followed the natural progression of where his route was taking him. Her eyes widened.  
  
She turned and caught the attention of Alastor Moody's natural eye. A quick motion of her head got Alastor Moody to glance the direction she indicated.  
  
Diggory was obvious to see as he struggled against the flow of the crowd. Moody abruptly broke off from the conversation he was having. His electric blue eye whirled in alarm.  
  
Both Mrs. Longbottom and Moody began to move towards the double doors. Neville didn't follow. He stayed at his Gran's seat with his head down.  
  
Unlike struggling Diggory, Alastor Moody with his most unusual appearance and demeanor was always able to cut through any crowd with ease. Mrs. Longbottom had never been known to suffer fools gladly and the sea of people wordlessly parted for her.  
  
Harry watched as both caught up with Mr. Diggory before he could reach the sitting room door. Harry stood up and headed over as well. He paused just past the double doors. It wasn't curiosity that got to him this time. This time it was fear. What was that light in the eyes of Cedric Diggory's dad?  
  
Alastor Moody took up his earlier sentry position outside the door. He had both eyes on the other man. His voice was trying to be emotionless. "Meeting's in that room, Diggory. You have no business in this room."  
  
For a second, Harry actually thought Diggory was reaching for his wand. He thought the man was going to pull out his wand and fight Moody right there. Then Neville's Gran spoke.  
  
"She hasn't done anything, Amos. You know she hasn't done anything wrong."  
  
Harry had never before heard so much anguish, hatred, pain, love, sorrow, and desperation in one voice as he did now when Amos Diggory spoke.  
  
"Does it matter? Does it really matter?"  
  
"You know it does, Amos." Mrs. Longbottom's voice came pretty close, Harry realized.  
  
"Cedric never did anything wrong."  
  
There were tears in both their eyes now.  
  
"No, Amos." She agreed. "Cedric never did anything wrong either."  
  
"But that didn't stop him from hurting my Cedric."  
  
"Amos, he is a monster. You are not a monster. Don't let this make you into something you are not."  
  
"It hurts so much. And it doesn't stop. It never stops." Amos Diggory's tears weren't restricted to just his eyes anymore. "I want him to hurt too."  
  
"I know Amos. Believe me, I know. Better than anyone else, what you are feeling right now. And I also know doing this won't make it stop hurting."  
  
"No, but at least then, he would hurt too." Harry could still see that light in Diggory's eyes. "He would know what all the rest of us have to live with day after day. He would feel the pain, the loss of someone he loves. It would matter to him, you know it would!"  
  
"And you would be a monster, Amos. Just like him. Is that what Cedric would have wanted? You know it isn't. Cedric was a good boy. He wouldn't want you to do this."  
  
"No, he wouldn't." agreed Mr. Diggory.  
  
Harry watched in horror as Cedric Diggory's father's body racked with sobs. Harry backed into the shadows to avoid being noticed. The light was finally gone from Diggory's eyes. Mrs. Longbottom tried to put a comforting hand on him, but he shrugged it off. After a few minutes, he began to settle down.  
  
"Let's go back in the meeting, Amos."  
  
Diggory shook his head and instead walked out of the door into the early morning light.  
  
Mrs. Longbottom looked at Moody. Moody's natural eye met her, but the magical one was still following Diggory's progress down the street.  
  
"I'm going to stay here a little longer. You can go back into the meeting now, he won't be back tonight."  
  
Mrs. Longbottom padded Moody on the arm. "Redemption is hard. I just wish Michael had…" Her voice trailed off and she headed back into the meeting.  
  
Moody had noticed Harry by the doors. "Shows supposed to be inside, Potter. Not out here. Nice to know after all the fuss you kids put up last year about wanting to come to meetings that you are taking advantage of the chance now."  
  
When Harry made no attempt to leave, Moody continued speaking. "Careful what you wish for Potter. Should you ever get it, you may find you don't want it after all."  
  
The door beside Moody opened and Lupin stepped out before carefully closing the door behind him. Harry had never noticed him slip in after talking to Dumbledore.  
  
Lupin eyed Moody questioningly for a moment before noticing Harry in the shadows.  
  
"Meeting has started, Harry. Let's try to find some seats."  
  
Harry allowed Lupin to gently steer him back into the meeting.  
  
***********************  
  
Remus quietly entered the room after Dumbledore left. Stopping at the bed, he stroked the still raven hair spilling across the pillow. Gray had begun to invade his own temples years ago, but still her hair remained constant. Minerva's eyes flew open immediately. The calm provided by the room's just departed occupant never wavered in her eyes. The dent in the cover, where another form had lain beside her was still visible.  
  
"Remus."  
  
He smiled at her. "I swear you have sense of touch in your hair. Didn't anyone tell you, you're supposed to be asleep?"  
  
Minerva gave him a half smile. "I am not really tired. Just a little drained, but not even really. More I just wanted to be away from the others for a bit."  
  
"Would you like me to leave?" He asked.  
  
"No, you are fine. I want to thank you for everything."  
  
Still that half smile. Remus took it and he was grateful for it. He knew, he had always known, her real smile, the smile that lit up her eyes was reserved for the man who had just left the room.  
  
He gazed down at her another moment, twirling the ends of her hair between his fingers. "Why didn't you ever talk to Malone, explain things to him?"  
  
Her voice was slightly harsh, but he knew it wasn't directed at him. "I have never been in the habit of explaining myself. Not to anyone."  
  
"Not to anyone." He quoted amused.  
  
She smiled again. This time there was light in her eyes. "Alright, maybe there is one person I feel the need to explain myself to."  
  
Remus glanced at the empty mark on the very pillow her head still lay."  
  
She shook her head. "No, not even to the great and powerful wizard of Hogwarts. He has long since learned to accept me without question."  
  
Remus smiled again as he realized perhaps, there was just one other with a full claim on her heart and smile. Even if that person wasn't him, it was still nice to know.  
  
She changed the topic a bit. Her voice was soft and caring. "You know it was Albus's idea to hire you Harry's third year. I had nothing to do with it. He thought it would be good for Harry to know you. Not to mention you were more qualified than anyone who actually applied. Albus was very…" She paused for a moment, "betrayed, when he first found out. And for a long time afterwards, he could not bare to look at me, never mind touch me. But he came to understand and accept what you and I meant to each other."  
  
"He forgave you."  
  
Minerva shook her head. "No, forgiving implies we did something wrong." She reached up and touched his face. "I absolutely refuse to believe we have any need for forgiveness."  
  
Remus turned his face to kiss the palm of her hand. "It was the happiest summer of my life."  
  
Now her voice was just sad. "And that is something Malone will never understand. He is just too much his father's son."  
  
It was Remus's turn to shake his head now. "But if you told him the truth -"  
  
Minerva interrupted him firmly. "Remus, the truth is whatever people happen to believe on a particular day. I have long since lost the desire to strip anyone of their illusions."  
  
"Minerva, you know that's not really the truth - "  
  
"Remus, there have been so many things that have happened in my life. Sometimes, I wonder if even I know what the truth really is anymore." A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "Besides, Malone already clearly demonstrated he could not keep a secret."  
  
Remus wasn't sure if he should sigh or chuckle. Either way, there was no point in arguing. The woman beside him was older and wiser than him, and even if she wasn't, there was no power he could wield that would change her mind.  
  
"I think Tonks is rather fond of you."  
  
Remus nodded. "Since Sirius's death, we've been a comfort for each other."  
  
She half smiled again. "I am happy for you. Despite what happened earlier, she seems very nice. You deserve very much to be happy. Do not ever forget that Remus."  
  
Remus couldn't help but smile back. It was the effect she had on him. He knew she was sincerely happy for him. And yet, he knew, that she knew, that he would leave Tonks at a word, at a glance from her. But just in case, he would say it aloud.  
  
"You do know, I -:  
  
"Remus," she cut him off. This woman, who knew him so well. The school teacher firmness was back in her voice. "You know I have a very firm policy against dating former students."  
  
Perhaps it was the subtle emphasis on the word former that only he would notice or maybe, it was the twitch of her lips trying desperately not to smile after saying it. Whatever it was, he couldn't help but grin. No doubt, that was the effect she planned for.  
  
Covering her lips with a chaste kiss, he paused to smooth back the hair he had been playing with before he left the room.  
  
  
  
Back in his seat with the others, Harry was watching a string of drool find its way from the corner of Ron's mouth down onto his hand where it pooled.  
  
The most exciting part of the meeting, so far was the first time Hermione noticed Ron was sleeping and hit him. Ron was so startled, he fell out of his seat and banged his head on the row in front of him. Apparently, Ron hadn't learned his lesson yet.  
  
The meetings seemed a lot more fun and exciting last year, trying to listen from the outside.  
  
He never realized before how many mundane details there were and just how mundane they were. Moody and Professor McGonagall had the right idea skipping all this.  
  
Harry craned his neck around again to see out the double doors. The sitting room door was open and there was no sign of Moody. Harry looked around the room for someone to tell and noticed Moody was back in his earlier seat. He must have missed that while watching Ron's drooling.  
  
Harry scanned the rows of people in front of him looking for the familiar black bun. It wasn't there, but what was Mr. Ollivander doing?  
  
The old wand shop owner was trying to get Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to separate so he could sit between them. The man's standing was beginning to cause a distraction so with an odd look, Mr. Weasley exchanged seats with Mr. Ollivander.  
  
Now, instead of paying attention to Albus Dumbledore, Ollivander was staring at the hair of the woman he had arranged to sit behind. As Ollivander reached a hand out and stroked the long black tresses, their owner whirled around to give him a scathing look. Harry realized Professor McGonagall wasn't wearing her usual hairstyle.  
  
Ollivander looked down contritely, but as soon as Professor McGonagall turned forward, Ollivander again raised his hand. This time, he quickly twined a few strands around his fingers and yanked.  
  
When Professor McGonagall tuned around again, there was no scathing look. Instead, there was a loud hiss and a protracted claw. Several lines of blood appeared on Ollivander's cheek, right below his eye.  
  
The few people who hadn't yet taken notice of what was going on, definitely took notice when with a great puff of smoke, the hairs still around Ollivander's fingers caught fire. Ollivander quickly dropped the burning hairs and stamped out the fire with his cloak.  
  
After another hiss, the people in feline Professor McGonagall's row leaned forward as she strolled across their chair backs until she reached Hagrid. She sat primly on one of his overly large knees licking Ollivander's blood from her paw.  
  
Hagrid seemed not at all unsettled and began to stroke her fur. Madame Maxime raised an eyebrow at first, but after a moment, with encouragement from Hagrid, she began to scratch behind Professor McGonagall's ears. Professor McGonagall leaned into the other woman's touch for a moment before settling into a more comfortable position.  
  
Harry couldn't help but laugh in wonder at what had just occurred.  
  
Dumbledore took a moment to fix a frown at Ollivander before beginning to speak again.  
  
Mad-Eye Moody called out in a low growl that still managed to reach the whole room. "Careful there Ollivander. That one will claw your eye out."  
  
Moody gave an odd laugh that no one joined in on.  
  
Harry started to laugh with Moody, but stopped. He hadn't had a chance yet to tell Moody what had happened with Bellatrix Lestrange. And why had Moody said eye, not eyes?  
  
******************************  
  
When the meeting finally ended, Harry was glad it was over. Given the unusual hour the meeting had taken place, most people left quickly. A few people remained clustered in small groups.  
  
He saw Professor McGonagall by the door. After all that had happened, he wanted to say something to her, but he wasn't sure what. He didn't want to interrupt the conversation she was having, so he moved closer and waited.  
  
Professor McGonagall looked highly affronted. "Really Arabella, I have never had fleas. Not ever. So you will need to seek out advice for your cat's problem elsewhere."  
  
"Harry, may I speak to you for a moment?"  
  
He turned around to face Professor Dumbledore. He nodded to the older man. "That was an interesting discussion tonight, sir."  
  
"Do you really think so? I dare say Mr. Ronald Weasley seemed a little less than enthused."  
  
Harry couldn't have held back his smile even if he wanted to. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in response.  
  
"Unless you object, Harry, you will be staying here today with the Weasleys, Longbottoms, and Miss Lovegood. All of you will be traveling together to the Wizengot tomorrow.  
  
You are somewhat familiar with the Wizengot, I'm sure after seeing several of my experiences there and having your own trial last summer. This trial is merely a formality. Your own testimony will be quite brief and painless, if it is even needed. Arthur Weasley as well as several of the Weasley children will be there with you for support should you need it."  
  
Harry's voice was more hesitant and pleading than he wanted it. "Will you be there?"  
  
Professor Dumbledore nodded. "I have been reinvited to sit on the Wizengot Council so I will not be seated with the rest of you, but I will be there should you need anything."  
  
Harry found this answer acceptable and he could tell Dumbledore was pleased that he wanted him there.  
  
"After the Wizengot is finished, you have a few decisions you will need to make."  
  
Harry waited expectantly.  
  
"Your godfather left this house to you. If you no longer wish meetings to take place here, you need only say so."  
  
Harry shook his head. "I don't mind."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "You are not yet of age, so you can not be allowed to remain here alone. However, if you do wish to spend the summer here, Remus Lupin or some of the other Order members can remain with you. Alternatively, Molly and Arthur Weasley have requested your presence at the Burrow. You are also welcome to return early to Hogwarts, but I fear you might feel a bit cut off from the rest of the world there. Take your time. There is no need to come to a decision tonight."  
  
Harry didn't need to think long to make a decision. "I'd like to go to the Burrow with Ron and his family. But…will it be safe, for them?"  
  
Professor Dumbledore replied honestly. "Harry in these times in which we live, safety is not always in comfortable supply. Even without your presence at the Burrow, Voldemort and his supporters may decide the Weasleys are a threat. With you there, the chance of danger for them may increase, but it will also increase the amount of security around them. More extensive protective wards will be put around the Burrow and aurors will patrol the perimeter of their property."  
  
Harry considered Dumbledore's words for a minute before responding. "I'd like to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley first, but I think I'd like to stay with them."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "The final matter you need to consider is your occlumency lessons. It is still very necessary for you to master that skill. I have spoken with Professor Snape."  
  
Dumbledore held up a hand to stop Harry from interrupting. "He has agreed to begin your lessons again. If you prefer, I can give you lessons myself. I know neither option may be appealing to you, but it is imperative that you continue your lessons as soon as possible."  
  
Remembering the things Snape had revealed only a few hours earlier, Harry needed no time at all to decide this question. "I want you to do it, sir."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "Tomorrow will be a busy and exhausting day for you, I am sure. We can begin the following afternoon. I imagine the Burrow will not be the most conducive place for clearing your mind. I will arrange a portkey to take you to Hogwarts and leave it with Arthur.  
  
Harry nodded.   
  
"I shall see you tomorrow then, Harry."  
  
When Harry made no move to go upstairs, Professor Dumbledore inquired. "Was there anything else you needed?"  
  
Harry looked at him confused for a moment. "Oh, no sir. I just wanted to talk to Professor McGonagall a minute."  
  
Dumbledore smiled and stepped aside. "Of course."  
  
Professor McGonagall had finally managed to rid herself of Arabella Figg and was waiting by the door for Professor Dumbledore. When Harry approached, she turned away from her examination of the curtains around Mrs. Black's portrait to look at him.  
  
Harry still wasn't sure what it was he wanted to say to Professor McGonagall. He knew he needed to say something, to express his gratitude to her, to make sure she was alright.  
  
He looked into her eyes as he tried to find the words to express all the things he wanted to say. If the eyes were supposed to be the windows to the soul, he doubted anyone could ever look in her eyes and still think she lacked a soul. Her eyes were so expressive, so comforting and understanding he began to believe his words weren't necessary. She already knew what he wanted to say.  
  
When she interrupted his sputtering, he almost didn't quite understand what she said. It took him by such surprise.  
  
"Professor McGonagall. I just wanted to tell you…well I wanted…I wanted to say how much-"  
  
"Potter have you started your Transfiguration essays yet?"  
  
"What? Umm, no, I haven't."  
  
The look in her eyes and the comforting hand she put on his shoulder for just a moment didn't match at all with her stern voice and words. "Well you should, Potter. You do know they aren't going to write themselves."  
  
Harry couldn't help but match Professor Dumbledore's smile as Professor McGonagall turned and took the arm he offered her. Harry watched as arm-in-arm, the two Professors walked out the door. 


	10. Chapter 10

A/N Thanks for reviewing Dark Lulu, Redwoman, Tabby Girl, Laura and Child-of-the-Dawn.  
  
I've always found the character of Ollivander to be interesting. I use some of the lesser known characters quite a bit so look for him to return.  
  
Big thanks to Linze for helping me out with some questions I needed answered for a few later chapters.  
  
Another big thanks to Audrey1 for offering to proofread my stories.  
  
Laura All I can say is when Lupin was teaching in POA he would then have qualified as a former student and Professor McGonagall never makes an exception to her policy against dating former students.   
  
It may sound odd at the moment, but trust me it deals with one of the central themes of the story and will be handled very delicately and in character. Besides you won't find out about it in detail for at least another 50 chapters so if it really bothers anyone they can just put it out of their mind until we get to the days of the Marauders..  
  
I'm going to try to speed up the story a little bit so people don't lose interest. I just realized it took me ten chapters to get through about four hours of events. That might give you an indication of how long it will take me to tell sixty plus years in a person's life.  
  
Wizard's Code is a plot device I am going to use a few times. It will be a combination and often distortion, of old Roman, Viking, and Anglo-Saxon codes of conduct.  
  
***********************************  
  
Once Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall left, Harry found his way upstairs. He was staying in the same room as last year. The only difference was this year, Neville shared the room with them.  
  
Ron was already asleep, but after five years of sharing a bedroom with Neville, Harry knew the lack of sound in the room meant Neville was only pretending to be asleep. Harry had figured out by now that Neville knew a lot more about what went on tonight than he did, but given the other revelations of the day, Harry was fairly certain he didn't want to share in that knowledge.  
  
It took a long while for Harry to get to sleep. In the quiet darkness of his godfather's house, it was harder to keep the memories at bay.  
  
When Harry finally managed to drift off to sleep, Neville's usual snoring was still not to be heard. Harry's last conscious thought before sleep was an acknowledgement that not trying to share in Neville's knowledge was a wise choice if it was that disturbing.  
  
***************************************  
  
Everyone slept late into the afternoon. Even Mr. Weasley spent the day at Grimmauld Place. His only official ministry business of the next few days was to help try to keep the children from running amuck before or during the Wizengot.  
  
A few of the more trusted Order members were allowed in and out of the house. Moody pulled Harry aside and asked Harry to go through the events of the previous night. Harry found it odd that Moody hadn't just gone to Professor McGonagall for information, but went through the events with him anyways. But for the most part, the children were kept secluded.   
  
As the children attempted to play gobstones, test out some of Fred and George's newer inventions, and talk about anything other than the trial planned for the next day, the adults' nervousness was distracting. Most were convinced that the previous evening's attempt on Harry's life would not be the only one before the Wizengot was finished. After all, what other motive could be behind Lucius Malfoy's demands that Harry be present.  
  
That evening, when the other children were sent up to bed, Harry stayed behind to speak to Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. It was less some of the weight he had felt on his heart and plus not a small number of hugs that he finally followed up after the other children.  
  
The others were too full of nervous excitement to sleep that night. More than once, Mrs. Weasley had to send the girl's back to their own room.  
  
Before they finally fell asleep, Ron was the one to bring up the topic.  
  
"Are you guys, you know, afraid?"  
  
"Yes." Admitted Harry.  
  
Neville spoke with a weary determination that ended the conversation. "It doesn't matter if you're afraid or not. A wrong has been done and it needs to be corrected. Wizard's code."  
  
"Yeah." agreed Ron quietly. "Wizard's code."  
  
Harry didn't need to ask exactly what Wizard's code was to agree with Neville's other words.  
  
********************************  
  
  
  
The next morning came both too quickly and not fast enough. The breakfast feast Mrs. Weasley had prepared with her overabundance of nervous energy was left almost untouched. Only Luna, who could shrug off anything, even bothered to fill a plate.  
  
The escort that came for them was enormous. Besides the members of Harry's guard from last night, it appeared every hit wizard and auror in the employ of the Ministry of Magic was present. They formed a human wall around each of the children for the journey.  
  
They arrived without incident and were led to the door of the Wizengot. There one by one they were called in to testify. Harry was the first of the children to go.  
  
The Wizengot was much less intimidating this time with Albus Dumbledore to look down reassuringly instead of Fudge and Umbridge's accusing glares of last summer. Harry couldn't help but rejoice to see now that Dumbledore was again on the Wizengot, the toad woman was not to be seen.  
  
After relating his version of the events at the Department of Mysteries, Harry was allowed to take a seat in the stands to watch the rest of the proceedings. Harry couldn't help the feeling of déjà vu sitting next to Alastor Moody.  
  
Looking at Lucius Malfoy sitting in the chair reserved for the accused, Harry felt no small amount of satisfaction. The Dementors might no longer be in charge of Azkaban, but even so, the shrunken ness of Lucius Malfoy's form showed it was still not a desirable place to be. Harry had no need to listen to the others give their accounts of what had occurred in the Department of Mysteries. All he needed was to look into Malfoy's face and see that finally, the smug expression and air of superiority were gone.  
  
When Harry finally managed to tear his eyes from that most welcome sight, he let his eyes roam the rows of observers. He probably shouldn't have been, but he was surprised when he met the gaze of Draco Malfoy. No one had mentioned Draco and his mother would be in attendance, but now that he thought about it, why wouldn't they be here.  
  
The ferocity of Draco's gaze, the expression of sheer hatred and unconcealed rage didn't bother Harry. Maybe it was just that Draco needed something, someone to focus on so he didn't have to look down upon his own father sitting chained to a chair before all these people. But then, although Draco had never before fixed him with a look with quite that degree of hatred and rage, Draco had always fixed him with a look of hatred and rage.  
  
It probably wasn't the most well-advised thing Harry had ever done in his life, but right at that moment, he just couldn't help himself. It felt too much like the right thing to do. Returning Draco's gaze, Harry fixed his own face with an ear-to-ear grin and raised a hand to wave cheerfully at Draco.  
  
The way Draco turned crimson and stood, the way Narcissa Malfoy had to physically restrain Draco from trying to get to him, were too much for Harry. He finally averted his eyes.  
  
"Potter, its not a good idea to kick an animal when they're down. Once you have them cornered with no escape left, that's when they become most dangerous."  
  
Not wanting to be brought down from his new high, Harry just nodded and went back to checking on who was in attendance. Really, it wasn't that Malfoy had managed to upset him or that he did realize the truth to Moody's advice, that made him seek out a familiar, reassuring face. Really, it wasn't. When he didn't find the face, he couldn't quite keep the disappointment from his voice.  
  
"Professor McGonagall didn't come?"  
  
Moody snorted. "That would be the day. If McGonagall walked in those doors, these people would clear out faster than if a stampede of insulted hippogriffs flew in. You do know who her grandmother was don't you?"  
  
Probably not really wanting to know, Harry slowly shook his head.  
  
"Mnemosyne Themis." said Moody, as if that settled the matter.  
  
Not seeing a dawn of recognition on Harry's face, Moody sighed before continuing.  
  
"Mnemosyne Themis was brought up on charges before the Wizengot. After the Wizengot found her guilty and pronounced her punishment, she pronounced the Wizengot guilty of sitting in judgment of her and carried out a punishment of her own. She sealed the doors and set fire to the room. Wiped out the whole Wizengot except for one who happened to be a salamander animagus. Died in the fire herself. Fire went on for three days, but never touched any of the other chambers in the Ministry. There is a reason this room is stone now."  
  
Hermione, who had finally finished her very detailed testimony joined them at the middle of the story.   
  
"I've read that story before, but it never includes what Mnemosyne's original crime was."  
  
Moody looked Hermione in the eye before responding. "She charmed the flowers in her garden to bloom even in winter."  
  
Hermione's brow furrowed. "The punishment for that used to be rather severe?"  
  
Moody shrugged. "Five galleons."  
  
Hermione's brow furrowed deeper. "Mnemosyne killed herself and all those people to avoid paying a five galleon fine?"  
  
Moody shrugged again. "Well, there was the principle of the matter too."  
  
Hermione just stared at Moody.  
  
With Ron's lack of attention to detail, his testimony had not lasted long at all.  
  
"So if all these women were cursed and a bunch of nutters how did they manage to keep having children?"  
  
"Men are very weak, Weasley, very weak."  
  
Ron didn't argue. "So does Professor McGonagall have any relatives that weren't psychotic murderers?"  
  
Moody took a moment to think. "A few centuries ago, there was a woman, Eris. She used to scribe books and donate them to libraries.-"  
  
"That's not bad." said Hermione.  
  
Apparently she had spoken too soon.  
  
"They were cursed books. She used a special quill that wrote in her own blood. Then, she enchanted the blood so any not of her line attempting to read it would go blind or mad depending on which volume."  
  
"That would fit my definition of psychotic." Corrected Ron.  
  
"Aye, but she never actually murdered anyone. Minerva's mother never actually murdered anyone either, but I think if she had lived just a little longer… Then again, as Henry James once wrote, 'To kill a human being is, after all, the least injury you can do him.' No, I'd say Artemisia caused plenty of damage in her short life."  
  
The conversation came to an end when Luna's testimony began. Unlike the testimony of the others, Harry found Luna's version held his attention. It was quite interesting, as it was something new and entirely unlike anything he remembered happening.  
  
Ron spoke the question they were all thinking. "What Ministry of Magic did Luna go to?"  
  
Harry was thankful Dumbledore was on the Wizengot again. He managed to move Luna's testimony along and extract enough relevant facts from her to satisfy the other members of the Wizengot Council.  
  
When Neville entered to give his testimony, you could tell people already knew who he was. A quick murmur of excitement went through the crowds followed immediately by a respectful hush. The Wizengot listened to Neville's rendition of events without interruption. Even the more skeptical members made no effort to contradict Neville Longbottom when he completed his testimony.  
  
Kingsley Shackleton was the last to give testimony. The other adults had given their testimony earlier. Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding when the Wizengot at last gave its judgment. Lucius Malfoy would never again walk free of Azkaban.  
  
When the group stood to leave, Moody put a hand on Harry's shoulder to stop him. Harry looked up and saw Draco Malfoy standing in an empty spot not far.  
  
"I want a word with Potter. I claim my right by the Wizard's code."  
  
Moody's magical eye traveled the length of Draco Malfoy before he spoke so low only Harry could hear him.  
  
"You don't have to. His family only invokes the code when it benefits them. They sure as hell never lived by it. It's your choice. He is unarmed. His wand was taken at the entrance of the Ministry. He and his mother were checked for any weapons, poisons, or other dangerous items before being admitted."  
  
Remembering Moody's earlier words, Harry decided to speak to Draco. After all, saying no would only delay Draco's wrath a few months until school started.  
  
"Turn around slowly, Malfoy. I want to check you for contraband first."  
  
Draco sent Moody an angry glare, but did as he was told. Finding no cause for particular alarm, Moody released his hold on Harry's shoulder after a final piece of advice.  
  
"I tried to argue their tongues were dangerous items, but no one would let me remove them."  
  
Moody kept his magical eye fixed on Draco as Harry approached him.  
  
Draco's expression and voice exuded contempt.   
  
"Rather pleased with yourself today, Potter. This isn't over you know."  
  
Harry tried to keep in mind Moody's earlier advice, he really did. But Draco Malfoy and his whole family were loathsome.   
  
"It is over for your father, Malfoy."  
  
Draco's eyes flashed with anger before a smirk settled on his features.   
  
"Shame your little pooch couldn't come with you today, Potter."  
  
Seeing he had hit his mark, Draco continued.  
  
"I'm sure he would have been a great comfort to you. At least my father is still alive. When this is all over, my father will be set free, but you'll still be out a mongrel."  
  
Harry knew Draco was trying to bait him. He tried to keep his temper.  
  
"Voldemort isn't going to win, Draco. Your father is just as good as dead for you."  
  
Draco's temper was rising too. "Who's going to stop him? You? I don't think so, Potty."  
  
Harry took a step closer in an attempt to intimidate Draco.  
  
"I won't be alone. The Ministry, Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, they are all onto your master's plans. He won't succeed. So be a good little ferret and go run on back to your mummy."  
  
Draco peered Harry up and down. He gave Harry a look of pity as if Harry was a simpleton.  
  
"Still haven't got a clue about what's really going on, do you, Potter?"  
  
Draco's question was delivered more as a comment.  
  
"You think you are so righteous. You don't even know what it is they have you fighting for."  
  
Knowing Draco was just trying to get him off balance, Harry kept his face neutral. "And I suppose you are going to explain it all for me?"  
  
"You still think Dumbledore is the great protector. You think all of this is a fight between good and evil. Well, sorry to disappoint you, Potter., but if you think you are fighting on the side of right, you are wrong. Do you really want to know what is going on here, Potter? Or are you content living a lie?"  
  
"Blow over, Malfoy."  
  
Draco was so worked up, spittle was flying from his mouth as he spoke.  
  
"You think Dumbledore is so good and noble. And McGonagall is his loyal little lapdog. Content to just do his bidding. McGonagall is only by his side because she doesn't get a choice. He keeps her there using the Imperius curse."  
  
Harry put out a hand to push Draco aside and go rejoin the others. If Malfoy was going to lie, next time he should try to make it a little more believable than Luna's stories.  
  
"Sod off, you little ferret."  
  
Draco smirked. "Don't believe me, do you?"  
  
"Whatever gave you that idea?" said Harry sarcastically.  
  
Draco's smile took up more of his face.  
  
"Don't take my word for it, Potter. Ask him. Ask your great hero and look into his eyes when you do. Forget what he says, just watch for the answer in his eyes. You'll know then, I'm telling the truth."  
  
Something about the way Draco insisted made Harry pause. Of course, he knew it was a lie, but what was Draco playing at?  
  
"He wouldn't do that, Draco. In case, you have forgotten, that's the kind of thing your master does."  
  
"Really Potter, you are so naïve. Do you really think she would have stayed with him all these years by choice? He's like a hundred years older than her. Do you know what he makes her do at night? Do you want to know the vile things he does to her?"  
  
"Draco, shut your filthy mouth."  
  
Harry had had enough and pushed past Draco.  
  
"What did Malfoy want?" asked Ron when Harry returned.  
  
Harry really didn't feel like repeating all the disgusting lies Draco had told. "He wanted to copy my Herbology essay, but I told him I didn't have it on me." 


	11. Chapter 11

A/N Just a quick chapter to get things started. Will have more up later tonight or tomorrow with proper thanks for all who have reviewed.  
  
Meanwhile just to clear up a few terms I have been using. I never defined them before because they are all common psychic terms usually found in most dictionaries or easily researched on-line.  
  
Telekinesis Is the ability to move objects with your mind. Also commonly referred to as Psychokinesis.  
  
Knowingness is the ability to get information without knowing where it came from.  
  
Psychometry is the ability to touch an object and get info on it, its owner, its creator, or its history. Psychometric would be one who has this ability.  
  
Claireolofactor is an extraordinary sense of smell. Usual examples are smelling flowers before they bloom, trouble before it occurs, death before it happens.  
  
Just a little bit more justice to dispense before we move into the past so stay with me for another 2 chapters before flashbacks begin to explain everything. And then cause more confusion.  
  
************************  
  
The journey back to Grimmauld Place was much more relaxed, at least for the children. Moody refused to allow any of the adults to let down their guard or celebrate. Kingsley Shackleton flanked Harry on one side and Moody took the other side, his magical eye doing 360's the whole trip. Free of all the stress of the past few days, Harry found Moody's behavior and his eye mildly amusing up until the point when Moody called Malone McGonagall forward.  
  
It wasn't the awkwardness of seeing the young man again after the things he said, though that didn't help. Malone seemed to have put the incident entirely out of his mind and returned to his earlier aloof behavior. He merely nodded at Harry in greeting. It was what Moody told them to do that really bothered Malone and Harry.  
  
"Everything okay, Malone?"  
  
Malone nodded. "All clear that I can see."  
  
"How far ahead can you see?"   
  
"Usually about two - three minutes." replied Malone.  
  
"That's not very far." was Moody's concerned response.  
  
Malone shrugged in return. "What did you expect bringing me here? I'm not even supposed to be psychic."  
  
Moody frowned. "Try holding hands with Potter. Touch sometimes helps."  
  
Harry could see Malone was getting annoyed.  
  
"I'm not a psychometrist. I can't 'read' objects I touch. I just see events a few minutes before they happen."  
  
"Can't hurt to try. Just take his hand." Moody growled.  
  
Harry had no intentions of offering his hand and thankfully Malone had no intentions of taking it.  
  
"No offense, Harry, but you really aren't my type."  
  
Moody was getting aggravated now.  
  
"Damn it, Malone. Just try it."  
  
"Moody, its bad enough you followed me around for a week asking me to come help you defeat some stupid dark lord. You threatened to hex all of my friends and you obliviated all of my business clients. You told me some ridiculous story about locking yourself in a trunk for ten months and you droned on and on to me about family and honor and family honor.  
  
When I was at Hogwarts, it took you six years of trying, but you got me to see the truth about my aunt. I gave you my wand and I left. Exactly what you are trying to accomplish now, I have no idea."  
  
Harry had no idea what Malone was talking about, well the trunk part was familiar, but from the look on Moody's face, this wasn't going well.  
  
"But before I take the wand you held on to for twenty years and shove it up what is left of your nose, I suggest you listen to me when I say, I am not going to hold anyone's hand here, particularly not some fifteen year old boy's. I don't read items. I just experience things a few minutes before they happen."  
  
Trying to diffuse the situation, Harry attempted to change the topic.  
  
"That's an interesting ability. Almost like a time turner."  
  
Malone frowned. "What's a time turner?"  
  
Moody gave Harry an odd look. "I thought you never paid attention in History of Magic class? Where did you hear about those?"  
  
It was Harry's turn to look uncomfortable. Well, his attempt to change the topic had certainly worked. "Well, Hermione had one third year. She signed up for a lot of classes and used one to get to all the ones that overlapped."  
  
Shacklebolt seemed absolutely shocked. "Time turners don't exist anymore, Harry. They were all destroyed centuries ago. Do you know what the filling is in those? It takes serious dark magic to make those. Hermione was just pranking you. A muggle born witch couldn't possibly have one of those. I mean where would she get one?"  
  
"Professor McGonagall gave it to Hermione. She had to write all kinds of letters promising the Ministry Hermione would only use it for school work. She returned it to Professor McGonagall at the end of the year."  
  
Harry was confused. He didn't mention that Hermione had in fact used it for something else.  
  
Shacklebolt spoke uncertainly. "Yes, McGonagall would be the only one capable of making one of those, but…" He turned to Moody.  
  
Moody spoke in a low voice, so no one else would join the conversation. "Don't mention time turners to anyone else, Harry. Use your head boy. Think about how dangerous one of those could be. Do you really think the Ministry would pass those out to anyone? Never mind underage witches wanting to take extra classes?"  
  
Harry kept quiet after that. Hermione had told him that Professor McGonagall told her never to tell anyone about the time turner, but he had never really thought about it before. Certainly Dumbledore had known about it, so it wasn't like Professor McGonagall was really hiding anything.  
  
Harry was relieved when they arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place.  
  
Most of the aurors and hit wizards left without entering the house, but Shacklebolt, Moody, and Malone made certain Harry was safely inside the house. Before he left, Shacklebolt gave Harry and Moody another odd look, but said nothing more.  
  
As soon as they were all inside, Hermione and Ginny took off to go do whatever it was girls did together. Harry gave Ginny a grateful look when Ginny made Luna go with them. Neville was still fuming about Luna's comments of a few days ago.  
  
Neville was given something else to worry about as Mr. Ollivander approached.  
  
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"  
  
When Mr. Ollivander clucked his tongue and pierced them in turn with his gaze, Ron and Neville turned red. The wand owner's eyes paused disdainfully on Harry for a moment before moving on to Malone and Moody for more clucks.  
  
Harry was surprised to see Moody blushed as well. Malone was the only one who didn't look embarrassed.  
  
"Quite the little group we have going on here, don't we? So far, Harry has only managed to drop his wand, but as for the rest of you…" More clucking could be heard.  
  
Moody frowned. "Ollivander, wands snap. The average auror can expect to go through half a dozen in the course of a career. Dark wizards have no respect for craftsmanship."  
  
Ron took courage from Moody's words. "Yeah, you should be grateful to us, for the repeat business."  
  
Ron flushed again and dropped his eyes as the piercing gaze focused on him. Mr. Ollivander just stared at Ron for a long minute, shaming him. When it became difficult to tell where Ron's hair ended and his face started, Ollivander turned back to Moody.  
  
"Certain aurors would do well to remember basic wand safety. If you take care of your wand, your wand will take care of you. Mr. Potter understands that lesson. Don't you, Mr. Potter?"  
  
Ollivander didn't wait for Harry's nod before continuing sharply.  
  
"The average auror who expects to go through half a dozen wands may find his wand is not the only thing to get snapped by Dark wizards."  
  
Seeing Moody looking appropriately contrite, Ollivander moved his eyes along. Neville, his face down, already looked contrite enough. Apparently, Neville was willing to face Death Eaters and the Wizengot, but not the wand shop proprietor. Ollivander only offered another cluck of the tongue before moving onto Malone.  
  
"What's your excuse?"  
  
Malone looked puzzled. "For?"  
  
"Come, come." said Ollivander irritated. "Astound me with your reasoning and logic. You didn't even have the decency to go with your aunt to get your second wand made."  
  
Malone still looked puzzled. "What second wand? I'm still on my first. When I left the Wizarding world, I gave my wand to Moody. He brought it back to me."  
  
Ollivander was seething slowly. "Don't lie to me boy. I know you broke your wand. Five years ago, she came to me and had a new wand constructed. You are as careless and undeserving as the rest."  
  
Moody looked started by this revelation, but Malone just eyed Ollivander in return. Harry would guess Malone had been a Gryffindor.  
  
"You are as creepy as all get out. Do you know that?"  
  
Malone held out his wand for Mr. Ollivander to inspect.  
  
Ollivander turned the wand over in his hands and frowned. "This is the first wand I made. What did you do with the second one?"  
  
Ollivander turned around to look at Professor McGonagall's back talking to Hagrid and Snape. His voice was soft now. "She never actually said it was for you, but then she never corrected me either."  
  
He turned to Moody concerned. "What did she do with the second wand?"  
  
Moody returned the concerned look. "It won't work will it? If she doesn't want it to work for a person."   
  
Harry found it so odd to see Mad-Eye Moody blush. "I tried that wand once, just to see and nothing happened."  
  
Ollivander nodded. "That's why I say the wand chooses the wizard. And you should never let another wizard use your wand, because your wand may like them better. And where would that leave you? No, if Minerva doesn't want a person to use her power, a wand made from her hair won't cast."  
  
Everyone was staring at Professor McGonagall now. Seeing her standing there, talking to Snape, Harry couldn't help but think of what Snape had started to reveal the other night. It was so odd that she would be there, just talking like that with him. Harry had heard the two Hogwarts head of houses spar many times the past few years over such comparatively unimportant things like Quidditch, house points, and student detentions. It seemed so awful, so wrong that at the Head Table, Snape sat beside her for evening meals.  
  
Harry didn't care what Snape had supposedly done for the Order of the Phoenix in the past. It was just foul to make her endure Snape's presence day after day.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by Ollivander's voice.  
  
"Well, regardless, I have a new wand for her. I would give it to her myself, but she still hisses at me whenever I get close. If she doesn't like the color find out what kind of wood she wants."  
  
When Malone made no attempt to take the outstretched box, Moody took it.  
  
Ron asked the question Harry was wondering. "She didn't need to come pick it out for herself? You know, find a wand that chooses her?"  
  
Ron's head went down again when Ollivander looked at him.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, what wand wouldn't want her?"  
  
"You mean because she is a pure-blood?"  
  
Mr. Ollivander looked Ron up and down appraisingly before replying. "I disagree. I would tell you why, but you would never believe me."  
  
"I'll make sure she gets it, Ollivander." said Moody, ending the awkward moment.  
  
Harry's gaze drifted back to Professor McGonagall as the adults began their own conversation. Snape had wandered away now, so he could actually focus on her. She was facing towards them now.  
  
Looking at her attempt at muggle clothing, Harry couldn't help but be surprised. It wasn't a bad attempt, nothing like what he had seen at the Quidditch World Cup. But still he found it hard to believe she had been raised by muggles. There was just something off about what she was wearing, but he couldn't place it. Her dress was an appropriate dark blue with a tiny red and white floral pattern. The dress reached almost to her ankles. The neckline was conservative and the sleeves were ¾ length. Her shoes matched each other and her dress. Her hair was in its usual bun. Still something just wasn't right.  
  
When the girls returned, Harry asked them.  
  
Hermione needed only a glance to figure it out. "The stilettos. Heels that high aren't practical."  
  
Ron peered at Professor McGonagall's feet. "I like them."  
  
Hermione snorted. "Well, I know what to get you for Christmas then Ron."  
  
Ron frowned. "You should get some for you, Hermione. You would look good in them."  
  
Hermione just glared at Ron in reply.  
  
Neville frowned. "They look painful. If she stepped on you, I mean. To wear too I imagine, but I'm not going to try." Neville looked fearfully at the others, lest they get the wrong idea.  
  
"She accessorizes wrong. Look at her necklace." added Ginny.  
  
"It's an emerald and diamonds." said Ron importantly.  
  
"I noticed that pendant yesterday too." said Harry. "It looks nice."  
  
"But it doesn't match the dress." corrected Hermione. "And it didn't match her outfit yesterday either."  
  
"I think it matches." commented Luna.  
  
Ron ignored Luna. "She wears green robes usually. Maybe she just likes green. I mean you would think she was a Slytherin if you looked at the way she usually dresses."  
  
"Maybe the necklace is of sentimental importance." said Neville quietly.  
  
Remembering the way Professor McGonagall had fingered the pendant when she was upset the other day, Harry nodded. "Yeah, maybe."  
  
"Nah." said Ron. "It's probably just the only muggle necklace she owns. I mean, I've never seen her wear it in her regular clothes. She usually wears that emerald pin thing."  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's called a brooch. And yeah, muggle necklaces are so much different than wizard necklaces."  
  
Ron shot out a hand to swat Ginny, but she easily dodged him.  
  
"I think I'll get you a necklace for Christmas to go with the new shoes Hermione is getting you."  
  
This time when Ginny tried to dodge Ron's hand, she bumped into newly arrived Professor Dumbledore.  
  
"Oh, sorry, Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"Quite alright, Miss Weasley."  
  
Professor Dumbledore wasn't really looking at her. His eyes were traveling the room, looking for something. He appeared to have found it because his eyes began to twinkle and he smiled.  
  
Following the direction of Professor Dumbledore's gaze, Harry saw Professor McGonagall, as if sensing Dumbledore's arrival, look up from her discussion with Mrs. Weasley. She met Dumbledore's eyes for a moment and a smile flickered across her face before she resumed her conversation.  
  
Now that he knew to look for it, Harry was amazed at all the little signs he had missed before.  
  
Satisfied just by the small glance, Dumbledore turned his attention to the children.  
  
"I wanted to take a moment to congratulate all of you on a job well done today."  
  
When Moody moved closer, Dumbledore spoke to him.  
  
"Ah, I wished to congratulate you as well, Alastor. The lack of screeching on my last few visits has been marvelous. How ever did you manage to get rid of Mrs. Black? Last year, Sirius and Molly Weasley tried everything they could think of and nothing worked."  
  
"Afraid I can't take credit for that one, Albus." Moody smirked. "Peeves took care of her for us. Apparently, its okay for him to disturb an entire castle, but he didn't appreciate Mrs. Black calling him a freeloader."  
  
"Peeves did it? How?" Questioned Dumbledore quietly.  
  
Moody positively grinned. "He went invisible and snuck up on her. Drew a mustache on her face. Now she keeps quiet in exchange for us keeping the curtains closed so no one can see her."  
  
Seeing Dumbledore's bothered expression, Moody continued more solemnly. "Minerva gave him hell for it. I'm sure he won't do anything like that to the castle portraits. No one here minded though. Lupin and a couple of others, myself included, practically cheered when he did it. Serves the old bitty right-"  
  
Dumbledore still had that bothered expression on his face. Harry saw Moody's expression change again, this time to a look of dark wonder. "That wasn't the how you meant, was it?"  
  
Dumbledore tried to hide his expression, but it was too late.  
  
"You never invited Peeves in, did you? He showed up trailing after Minerva last week. The rest of us didn't think anything of it, we just assumed you invited him."  
  
Moody's voice was beginning to rise. "You're damned right this place isn't secure anymore if the Fidelius Charm has been so completely violated."  
  
Professor Dumbledore gave Moody a sharp look. "Lower your voice, Alastor. You know as well as I do, Peeves is an exception."  
  
Dumbledore frowned. Harry had never really seen Dumbledore unsure before, but he thought it probably looked something like this.  
  
"Peeves probably just grabbed on to Minerva when she entered. You said yourself, he came in with her. If she willingly let him enter with her, with no outside coercion, than it wouldn't really be a violation of the Fidelius Charm. It's not like he turned up alone afterwards and could still find the location."  
  
The way Dumbledore looked at Moody, Harry thought he was waiting for Moody to say Peeves had shown up later by himself.  
  
Moody frowned, but before he could find something specific to comment on, the door to the street opened.  
  
One of the earlier aurors, whose name Harry had never bothered to learn, came bursting in. "There has been an attack! Dolores Umbridge is dead." 


	12. Chapter 12

A/N Be thankful I resisted the incredible urge to cut this into different chapters each time the door opened. ;-  
  
Mavidian I think Amos Diggory's intentions will become fairly clear this chapter.  
  
Laura the stiletto thing is something that will be brought up a few times through the years. An explanation will eventually be implied for why she wears them.  
  
Redwoman not to worry, answers are forthcoming in a few chapters. Honestly. I had to set the stage for it though. Despite this being 10+ chapters, in the character's life it is only been less than 2 full days. Soon Harry will incite Dumbledore to take a stroll through the past. Likely the chapter after next, even if I have to smush some things together to make it happen.  
  
Thank you, thank you to Laura Kay, Redwoman, Dark Lulu, Minerva Dumbledore1, Insaneflautist, Tabbygirl, VoyICJ, and Mavidian for reviewing.  
  
*************************************  
  
"Dolores Umbridge is dead!"  
  
All the conversations stopped immediately. It was odd. There was just this quiet. No one cried, no one screamed, it was just silence. Dolores Umbridge had never been a well-liked person, but still it was a shock for everyone.  
  
Harry was still close enough to Professor Dumbledore and Moody to hear some of the details the auror gave them. Umbridge had been killed in her home by Death Eaters. It had been a prolonged and painful death.  
  
Harry wasn't sure how he felt to be quite honest. Dolores Umbridge had been a pathetic excuse for a human being. It wasn't her toad-like features that had made her seem inhumane. It was her. It was just her that did it. From what Harry had seen of Umbridge, she never seemed capable of the higher emotions of compassion, and love. Her greatest joy seemed derived from bringing unhappiness to others. After all, wasn't she the one who had sent Dementors after him?  
  
With all the things Dolores Umbridge had done, Harry found it hard to feel sorry she was dead. This was the woman who gave him detentions for speaking the truth. Detentions that included a quill that was clearly an object of dark magic. She banned him for life from Quidditch and confiscated his broom. She chased Dumbledore from the halls of Hogwarts. Umbridge not only tried to sack Hagrid, but she had sent aurors to do it. She sent one of four stunners at Professor McGonagall without so much as one word of warning. She had tried to give him Veritaserum. She had started to cast the Cruciatus curse spell on him before Hermione interrupted her. If she hadn't kept him from contacting his godfather, maybe Sirius would still be alive. Even her attempt to sack Trelawney bothered him. As Professor McGonagall demonstrated that night, even if you don't really like one of your own and put them down to others, you stand up for them to outsiders.  
  
No, knowing all the things Umbridge had done, Harry found it hard to feel sorry she was dead. But not impossible. Even with all his hatred towards the woman, Harry felt sorry she was dead. No person, no matter what they had done deserved to die like that. Perhaps Dumbledore was right, love was what made us different from Voldemort.  
  
Surveying the room, Harry saw similar looks of shock and revulsion on everyone's faces.  
  
Dumbledore and the others left almost immediately to go investigate. Even Mr. Weasley and Charlie went. A solemn looking Hagrid tried to go, but a few quick words and a glance by Dumbledore made Hagrid nod and remain behind. Snape looked awkward, out of place, but knew he would look even more out of place at Dolores Umbridge's house. Amos Diggory was too stunned to be of any use and also remained behind.  
  
Professor McGonagall had wordlessly fallen into a nearby chair when the news had arrived. She stood unsteadily on her feet as if to go as well. She sat back down when Dumbledore spoke to her softly.  
  
"Is this really something you need to see, Minerva? Please just remain here with the children until I return."  
  
And so when all was said and done, the only people remaining were Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Longbottom, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Hagrid, Amos Diggory, and six frightened children.  
  
Afterwards, Harry liked to think, if only some more people had remained behind, things would have turned out differently. If Charlie or Mr. Weasley had stayed behind, they would have kept a clear head and helped the others to do the same. If only he had been more quick thinking, he could have done something to end it earlier. If only, he hadn't been so shocked.  
  
If only Moody had not forgotten to deliver the new wand before he left.  
  
But Harry was shocked. It was just too incredible. How quickly people could turn. How exceedingly fast mob mentality can take over. How swiftly people could revert back to their more basic instincts.  
  
Mrs. Weasley didn't know what to do with her feelings. She upset and confused, did what she always did when distressed.  
  
"I'm going to make some tea. And sandwiches." She nodded. "Sandwiches will be good."  
  
Mrs. Longbottom needed something to do. Anything to take her mind off of what she just learned. So she followed after Mrs. Weasley to help.  
  
Harry didn't bother to point out that none of them were hungry and after what the others were going to see, he doubted they would come back hungry.  
  
Hagrid shuffled around uncomfortably for a few minutes. Suddenly all his 'I'd like ta's and Somebody aught ta's' were coming back to haunt him. Eventually he sought refuge upstairs with an old friend.  
  
Professor McGonagall just sat quietly in her chair with a sad expression. One hand again found its way to her pendant, whole the other stole around her middle.  
  
Snape leaned forward against the mantle. Keeping his face sheltered from view.  
  
Amos Diggory hadn't moved since the news arrived.  
  
The six children felt so lost and uneasy. Their earlier victory at the Wizengot was forgotten. In each of their faces, Harry could see something similar to his own earlier struggle. They didn't know how to react.  
  
Everyone was still like that, off in their own little world, when the door to 12 Grimmauld Place opened again. Thinking it would be Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall rose expectantly and crossed towards the door. Harry rather imagined she was looking to share another of those reassuring glances with her colleague. The glance that met her was anything but reassuring.  
  
It was Cornelius Fudge who had entered. He was followed by several aurors.  
  
"Where's Dumbledore."  
  
Professor McGonagall tried to collect herself and answered Fudge's demand.  
  
"There has been a Death Eater attack. Dolores Umbridge is dead. He went with everyone else to…" McGonagall trailed off. Even years of experience from the first war against Voldemort hadn't given her the vocabulary needed to express the end of that sentence.  
  
"Good." said Fudge.  
  
Harry's was not the only head to whip around at the unexpected response.  
  
"That will make this easier. Dolores Umbridge's was not the only death today. Dawlish, Rhodes, and Spencer were murdered too."  
  
Fudge paused dramatically, waiting for a response. When he didn't get one, he continued viciously. "What do you have to say for yourself?"  
  
Professor McGonagall looked as confused as Harry felt.  
  
"Don't tell me you didn't know this was going to happen. Don't tell me it's a coincidence which four people You-Know-Who picked. I see the connection!"  
  
Professor McGonagall still looked so unlike her normal self, so confused.  
  
"Cornelius, what are you talking about?"  
  
"The four people who cast stunners at you!"  
  
Professor McGonagall's eyes closed for a minute as her mouth opened to emit a small cry. Harry was sure she would have collapsed to the floor were it not for the suddenly mobile Amos Diggory behind her, supporting her by the forearms.  
  
It took a moment for Professor McGonagall to compose herself just enough to reply. Harry would hardly call her stricken face composed.  
  
"I never knew who it was. It was dark. I never got close enough to see. After, after I never asked who it was."  
  
Fudge just continued glaring at her. When Mr. Diggory spoke, his hold on Professor McGonagall no longer had the illusion of being supportive.  
  
"Don't believe her. She is one of his. She has always been one of his."  
  
Fudge seemed to swell in size at Diggory's words of support. He nodded.  
  
"I think that's always been clear to everyone but that crackpot old fool."  
  
When Professor McGonagall tried to shift away from Amos Diggory, he tightened his hold on her considerably. His hands worked their way down to her wrists and pinned her arms behind her back.  
  
"Check her for his mark."  
  
As Fudge approached, McGonagall struggled against Diggory's hold. When Fudge tried to push up her sleeve, she finally called out in anguish.  
  
"You do not touch me."  
  
Whether her sleeve was too long or her struggling made it too difficult, Fudge gave up trying to push it up. Instead, he simply grabbed hold of the sleeve and pulled.  
  
More than just the sleeve tore. Professor McGonagall had a full slip on underneath, so there wasn't really that much visible other than her arm and more of her neck than usual. It wasn't that anything was actually revealed, at least not about Professor McGonagall. It was more the degradation of it that made Harry look away. Moody was right this place wasn't secure anymore.  
  
Something changed though. Professor McGonagall had stopped struggling. She hadn't gone slack, she was just standing there with her hands being held behind her back by Amos Diggory. Her eyes were blank, yet watching Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, as his eyes roamed her body looking for the familiar dark mark.  
  
Diggory frowned. "Maybe its some place else on her."  
  
Snape stepped forward, finally someone was going to put an end to this. Before he could speak, Fudge nodded to Diggory. As his hand reached up to her dress again, he met Professor McGonagall's eyes.  
  
Afterwards, Harry wouldn't have believed it had actually happened were it not for all the other children feeling the same way. It was so subtle that Harry hadn't even noticed it at first. It just felt like the room was getting warmer and the oxygen was getting thinner. It was hard to breath. His hand stole to his throat to loosen his tie before he realized he wasn't wearing one. Fudge's face was turning red again and this time not just in anger. It wasn't possible to move or try to intercede. It was hard enough just trying to breath.  
  
Suddenly, Harry believed all the things Loki had said about the destructive powers of untrained wand-less magic.  
  
Hagrid was half giant so things didn't effect him as easily, but even up several flights of stairs, talking with Buckbeak, he felt it. Magic, even wand-less magic, didn't effect him as much so he was still able to move. Hagrid came barreling down the stairs to see what was wrong. Hagrid was not always the quickest person to come to a conclusion, but what was going on here was so obvious, Hagrid's reaction was swift.  
  
Amos Diggory was pitched halfway across the room into some priceless heirlooms of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Hagrid then positioned himself to be blocking Professor McGonagall from view and aim of Minister Fudge and the aurors.  
  
"What da yeh think yer doing? What da bloody hell da yeh think yer doing?"  
  
Just as quickly, the feeling was gone. After taking a few gulps of air, Fudge pointed at Hagrid. Referring to the form behind him, Fudge gasped out.   
  
"She tried to kill me, you are all witnesses against her!"  
  
Snape spoke. "What does the Ministry expect when they don't allow even rudimentary training in wand-less magic? You scared her witless. I suggest next time you don't provoke her."  
  
Fudge was quickly grabbing hold of his senses and trying to downplay his own culpability. "We were merely checking her arm for the dark mark."  
  
Snape moved closer to hiss in Fudge's ear.  
  
"Think very carefully, Minister. What do you think it looked like to her?"  
  
Fudge's eyes widened. He sputtered.  
  
"That's that's ridiculous. For Merlin's sake there are children in the room!"  
  
Snape's hiss replied. "Some people don't find that to be a consideration."  
  
Fudge seemed to have deflated significantly, until he remembered his original purpose for coming here.  
  
"It isn't a coincidence that You-Know-Who picked those four."  
  
Snape didn't argue against that.  
  
"No, it isn't. The Dark Lord has always had a special…fascination with Minerva. He has often done things in an attempt to curry her favor, that doesn't mean she asked for them or even wanted them. Dumbledore warned you before, the Dark Lord would not tolerate your letting Umbridge go unpunished. Now, I agree Minister, we are all witnesses. Tell me Minister, after what just happened to Umbridge and the others, do you really want to be doing this? Particularly, in front of all these witnesses?"  
  
More witnesses arrived as the commotion finally brought Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Longbottom out of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley looked horrified by what had gone on. Mrs. Longbottom's expression went far beyond horrified.  
  
Fudge was outraged. "You can not threaten me. I am the Minister of Magic. You are Death Eater filth."  
  
Snape returned the other man's glare.  
  
"Surely, you don't think the mere title will be enough to save you? I seem to remember hearing Grindelwald took great pleasure in killing six consecutive Ministers of Magic. He easily bypassed all the security and protections around them. Do you really think the Dark Lord with all his supporters a lesser force than that one man?  
  
So Minister, putting aside Albus Dumbledore's reaction, I ask you again, is this really the treatment of Minerva McGonagall you want to get back to the Dark Lord?"  
  
Whatever answer Fudge would have offered, he never got the chance. The door to 12 Grimmauld opened again and in rushed Albus Dumbledore.  
  
If it didn't take Hagrid long to figure out what was going on, it would be an exaggeration to say it took Dumbledore any time at all. Indeed from the way he came rushing in and headed past Diggory, who was raising himself off of the floor, to go straight to Professor McGonagall, it seemed almost like it was what he expected to find.  
  
He put a hand on her shoulder and spoke softly to her. "Are you alright?"  
  
Harry thought Professor McGonagall looked almost small, like a child when she responded. Maybe it was just the moleskin overcoat Hagrid had draped around her that made her look no larger than Dennis Creevey the time he fell into the lake while crossing in the boats with the other first years. Now that Dumbledore was here and she could look into his concerned eyes, her voice sounded almost normal when she shrugged and said wryly,   
  
"Never better."  
  
Dumbledore frowned. "Minerva, I'm so sorry. I never should have told you to stay here. As soon as I heard Umbridge wasn't the only one, I came back. I knew…"  
  
Professor McGonagall put her hand over his. It was so odd, after all that had happened to see her trying to reassure him. She used his first name, something Harry knew she seldom if ever did in front of the students.  
  
"Albus, I am fine."  
  
Dumbledore, reassured, turned to face Fudge. The loving, gentle expression was gone. The new expression was a combination of fury and outrage. It looked almost pained.  
  
"You! What is wrong with you? Do you not realize this is exactly the reaction Voldemort wants? Can you really be this foolish? Minerva has never done anything but…"  
  
It was McGonagall who silenced Professor Dumbledore. If Fudge had even tried, Harry didn't think even with an army of aurors he could have succeeded, but Professor McGonagall did it just by saying his name.  
  
"Albus…"  
  
Her voice was hesitant, her eyes frightened.  
  
"There were six people that night. Only four cast on me, but what of the other two?"  
  
Again, Dumbledore was in his earlier mode. The slightly hesitant quality to his voice was new though.  
  
"Moody and the others went to check. Kinglsey was at the Wizengot all day. He only left a few minutes before we received the news so, it…"  
  
Professor McGonagall allowed Dumbledore to guide her back to her earlier chair.  
  
Harry saw Professor McGonagall's shoulders shake with something between a laugh and a cry as she spoke to Dumbledore.  
  
"Someone aught to tell him, candy and flowers are the way to a girl's heart. Jewelry even. Not this."  
  
Dumbledore tried to smile for her.  
  
"Ah, but you dislike cut flowers and never eat candy. You wear very few pieces of jewelry. A young man has to do something to get your attention."  
  
Fudge was fuming. He could tell whatever chance he had was lost.  
  
When Moody walked in the door all eyes turned to him. When Moody looked to Professor McGonagall and both of his eyes went to the floor, unable to meet hers, Harry knew the worst had happened.  
  
He was greatly surprised when a moment later a very shaken looking Kingsley Shacklebolt entered. Most of the earlier crowd wafted in as well.  
  
It took a moment for Harry to notice the letter in Shacklebolt's hand. The script wasn't exactly the same, but given the circumstances, it was similar enough to the writing in a diary Harry once saw for him to realize who wrote it. Ginny's gasp told him she recognized it too. Only one word was written. That was all that was needed for anyone to know who it was intended for. Without at any point actually looking at her, Shacklebolt placed the envelope marked Kitten on the arm of Minerva McGonagall's chair.  
  
Professor McGonagall just frowned and tried to ignore the letter.  
  
Moody's growl wasn't right.  
  
"All the wards at his flat were violated. No one was home, no one was hurt. Nothing was taken or damaged. The letter was just waiting in the center of the table when Kinglsey got home. He did it to show he could."  
  
Fudge puffed up again. Before he could even begin, Dumbledore cut him off.  
  
"If Voldemort simply wanted to get a letter or a message to Minerva, he could have sent it with Snape or an owl. Voldemort wanted to elicit a response by the rest of you. He wanted you to frighten her, not him. Congratulations, Cornelius, for playing perfectly into his plans."  
  
Fudge scowled. "What does it say?"  
  
When Professor McGonagall made no attempt to open the letter, Fudge stepped forward to open it himself.  
  
Harry could tell it was only with reluctance that Dumbledore warned Fudge.  
  
"You of course realize, it is cursed to only be opened by the intended recipient. Not that you don't deserve what ever you get from opening it."  
  
Fudge released the letter immediately. Professor McGonagall was the only one who didn't watch as it fluttered to the floor.  
  
Still reluctant, Dumbledore retrieved it. He held it out to Professor McGonagall. Her voice was a quiet sad, but it was calm.  
  
"I do not want anymore of his letters."  
  
"I know." was Professor Dumbledore's reply.  
  
The room was as silent as when the news of Dolores Umbridge first arrived.  
  
Moody was the one to break the silence.  
  
"Minerva, we need to know what it says. It might be something important, something he intends us to know."  
  
She didn't say or do anything for a long minute. Finally, she took it from Professor Dumbledore's still outstretched hand.  
  
She broke the seal, but didn't open the letter to read it. Handing it back to Dumbledore, she spoke.  
  
"I do not want to know what it says."  
  
Dumbledore glanced at it only a moment before with a dark look he held it out to Moody.  
  
Fudge took up the letter instead and gave a shriek of triumph. He paid no heed to what McGonagall had just said.  
  
"There you see. It says  
  
Bring the boy  
  
Return to me now  
  
All will be forgiven  
  
See, she is going to kill the Potter boy!"  
  
Mrs. Longbottom's big red handbag collided with Cornelius Fudge's head. Neville's grandmother was exasperated.  
  
"Not even you can be that foolish, Cornelius!"  
  
Fudge opened his mouth to respond, but when Mrs. Longbottom again raised the arm with the handbag, he closed his mouth.  
  
Professor McGonagall stood. "I would like to leave now."  
  
Dumbledore was still at her side. His voice was low, Harry knew he wasn't supposed to be overhearing this.  
  
"Minerva, please stay. That's what he wants. He wants you to pull away. Stay. I don't want this to be like last time. He wants-"  
  
Professor McGonagall interrupted him. Her eyes were wearing into his.  
  
"What about what I want?"  
  
Dumbledore hesitated for a moment and then nodded solemnly.  
  
"Will you wait just a few minutes. I want to send Harry away from here. Then I will escort you home."  
  
Professor McGonagall considered it for a moment and then nodded.  
  
Harry turned when Snape gave a gasp of pain. His hand involuntarily went to his upper arm, clutching the dark mark.  
  
'If you will all excuse me, I have somewhere else to be."  
  
Moody stepped in front of him.  
  
"Snape, you had no idea this was planned?"  
  
Snape practically spat out the words.  
  
"Of course not. What did you think I knew and since it was Dolores, just didn't think it was worth mentioning before?"  
  
Moody frowned.  
  
"My point is you didn't know about this. You didn't know about the attack on the Department of Mysteries or the attempt on Potter. Voldemort has removed you from his inner circle. I think it is fairly clear, Voldemort suspects you. To answer him is foolhardy. He may be summoning you just to kill you."  
  
Snape met the older man's concerned gaze.  
  
"Voldemort is aware my loyalties no longer remain with him. He believes me to currently be serving a new master, but still finds me useful to keep him up to date on pesky little problems like these."  
  
Snape's eyes flickered to Cornelius Fudge, who flinched in response.  
  
When Moody still made no attempt to move out of the way, Snape continued in a low, disdainful voice.  
  
"Minerva has taken steps to ensure my safety."  
  
Moody's natural eye widened in alarm. "You can't mean?"  
  
Snape nodded and went past Moody to the door.  
  
After Snape made it out the door, Harry turned back to see Cedric Diggory's father was approaching Professor McGonagall's chair from behind. Dumbledore was off to the side preparing port keys with Mr. Weasley and Mad-Eye Moody. Harry wanted to shout out a warning, but Neville started to move to intercept Mr. Diggory. Neither were necessary because before he could get closer, Professor Dumbledore whirled around to face Amos Diggory with a look of pure fury.  
  
"Was there something else, Amos?"  
  
Amos Diggory's eyes traveled from the back of McGonagall's chair to Dumbledore and back again. Professor McGonagall tried to ignore him, never turning to face him.  
  
"Dumbledore may be here to protect you now, but he won't live forever. You would do well to remember what has happened to other women who liked to play at causing wars. When it was all said and done, remember what happened to Helen of Troy."  
  
Moody escorted Diggory off of the premises while Dumbledore finished the port keys.  
  
Harry thought it odd, but said nothing when Dumbledore suggested to Mrs. Longbottom that until the wards at her home were further fortified it would be best if she and Neville stayed with the Weasleys. Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Longbottom stayed behind to pack up the children's items.  
  
************************************  
  
After the portkey to The Burrow had gone off , Mrs. Weasley went off to make new sandwiches to replace the ones left behind. Harry turned to Hermione.  
  
"I know the Greeks won, but what happened to Helen of Troy after the war was over?"  
  
Hermione looked down. "Her husband was supposed to kill her, but when he saw her, he couldn't. He brought her back to Sparta and they lived there happily for many years."  
  
That wasn't quite the answer Harry had been dreading. That didn't sound like the kind of answer Cedric Diggory's father had been getting at.  
  
Neville spoke up to finish the story. His voice was hoarse. "After her husband died, his successor cast her out for causing all that bloodshed. An old friend offered her refuge, but it was a trap. The friend had lost loved ones in the war and wanted revenge. Helen was crucified." 


	13. Chapter 13

A/N After reading this chapter, before sending me howlers, please read the title of the story again.  
  
Redwoman I am a horrible liar. I couldn't bear to put everything in one chapter, so I made it two. But I will try posting both today.  
  
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Late the next afternoon, Harry found himself in the middle of the entrance hall of Hogwarts, holding a piece of silverware bearing the Black family crest. It was so odd seeing the castle this empty. Even at Christmas holidays a few students and Professors almost always remained.  
  
'Harry, so good to see you. How are you?"  
  
Harry turned to greet Nearly Headless Nick. After exchanging pleasantries, the Gryffindor ghost informed him of the current password to the Headmaster's office. His task complete, Sir Nicholas turned to leave, after a final piece of advice.  
  
"Avoid the Transfiguration corridor on your way. Professor McGonagall is there, but Peeves is in a particularly…unpleasant mood today."  
  
Harry ignored Sir Nicholas's advice and went out of his way to pass the Transfiguration classroom. He still didn't quite understand what happened yesterday, but he wanted to see how Professor McGonagall was.  
  
Before he even got to the classroom door, he could hear Professor McGonagall's usual tones.  
  
"Put that owl down!"  
  
Harry grinned. Peeves could be rather annoying, especially with his fondness for water balloons and songs featuring the words 'Potter you rotter.' But it was certainly entertaining the way he kept the professors on their toes.  
  
He remained in the doorway, unobserved, and listened to the exchange.  
  
"Doesn't like it here when no ones here."  
  
Now that the owl was no longer in danger, Professor McGonagall's voice was gentler, as if she were speaking to a young child. She corrected,  
  
"I do not like it here when no one is here."  
  
Professor McGonagall sighed. "I know. They will be back in a few months."  
  
"Wants to go with childrens."  
  
"I want to go with the children."  
  
Peeves ignored the corrections.  
  
"Wants to go to the pictures with others."  
  
"I want to go to the pictures with the others - And you know you are not allowed to go without Albus or myself."  
  
Peeves scowled, but Professor McGonagall just found a new name from the ornate book in front of her and kept writing. Each time she finished a letter, one of the numerous owls fluttering about the room would step forward to take it. Some seemed particularly eager to receive a letter and get away from Peeves.  
  
"Likes popcorn and jujubeads."  
  
"I like popcorn and - what was the other thing?"  
  
"Jujubeads. Mudblood candies."  
  
"Muggle candies. Regardless, I do not like jujubeads. You, for that matter, do not eat them either."  
  
Peeves sat sullenly on a desk and mumbled.  
  
"Likes to throw them."  
  
"Yes, I am well aware of that fact. That is why you are not allowed to go to the pictures, unless accompanied by Albus or myself."  
  
"Doesn't like him anymore." muttered Peeves.  
  
Harry didn't understand the brief smile on Professor McGonagall's face when Peeves said he didn't like Professor Dumbledore.  
  
"Won't takes me bowling."  
  
"Really Peeves, what do you expect? You are not supposed to throw the ball down other people's lanes, never mind at other people."  
  
She sighed.  
  
"If you are going to sit there, you could work on your penmanship. Half the time no one can even read what you write on the chalkboards."  
  
Peeves continued pouting for a few minutes and then suddenly decided to take Professor McGonagall's advice.  
  
"Use the chalkboard to write on, not the owls." was Professor McGonagall's sharp reply.  
  
Peeves threw the chalk in response.  
  
"I need to finish these letters if you would like new 'Ickle Firsties' to play with in September."  
  
Remembering Peeves behavior his first year, Harry couldn't help but wonder what kind of childhood Professor McGonagall had if she considered dropping walking sticks on Neville 'playing.'  
  
"Go play with the suits of armor if you are bored here."  
  
Peeves mumbled something about not fun without filth to pick them up.  
  
Professor McGonagall's lips began to curl into a smile.  
  
"Filch. And he will be back in a week. Do you know, I am beginning to think you miss him."  
  
Peeves snarled in response.  
  
"Why did you come back earlier than you planned?"  
  
When Peeves didn't answer, Professor McGonagall looked up from her writing for the first time. Peeves was frowning. It was odd that the poltergeist could look so like a real person sometimes.  
  
"Peeves?"  
  
Peeves sank lower and mumbled in reply.  
  
"Said let me go cause you were moving away again and didn't want to take me."  
  
Professor McGonagall frowned.   
  
"Peeves, he tricked you. I am not going anywhere without telling you. I let you go because you would have been intolerable if I did not."  
  
"Peeves squirmed in his seat as if he didn't believe her.  
  
McGonagall's voice was sharper now.   
  
"Need I remind you, you were the one that choose to leave me last time."  
  
Peeves shrunk into his seat.  
  
"Changed my mind but the house was gone."  
  
Neither spoke for a few minutes.  
  
"If, if I can finish these before it gets too late, we will go see a picture. I assume it does not matter which one since after all we will not be allowed to stay much past the opening credits."  
  
Peeves leaned forward excitedly.  
  
"Popcorn and jujubeads?"  
  
"Do you give me your word you will not throw them?"  
  
Peeves who couldn't actually eat them frowned and considered the matter.  
  
"Wants me to lie?"  
  
Professor McGonagall put a hand to the bridge of her nose in an attempt to hide her smile.  
  
"Fine. You can have popcorn or jujubeads."  
  
"Popcorn and jujubeads. Needs a beverage too."  
  
Professor McGonagall sighed.   
  
"Popcorn and jujubeads. No beverage. Your aim is atrocious, you always get some on me."  
  
"Needs the straw." Peeves continued solemnly. "Will use to practice."  
  
Harry found this form of negotiation highly amusing.  
  
"Who are you going to practice on?" asked Professor McGonagall suspiciously.  
  
"Filth." said Peeves eagerly.  
  
"I think not."  
  
Peeves tried again more carefully.  
  
"I am to practice on Mrs. Norris?"  
  
The scritch of Professor McGonagall's quill paused as she considered.  
  
"I better not find you using it on the first years."  
  
Happy again, Peeves began swinging his legs, such as they were, and kicking the desk petulantly.  
  
Without ever looking to the doorway where Harry stood, Professor McGonagall spoke.  
  
"Mr. Potter, Professor Dumbledore is a very important man with many responsibilities. I can not take house points this early, but I still do not recommend keeping him waiting."  
  
***********************************  
  
When Harry arrived at Professor Dumbledore's office, he could see Professor Dumbledore still feeding strands to the pensive. The mist was so think and swirled so quickly, Harry knew there must be a great number of memories in there.  
  
Dumbledore greeted Harry with a warm smile.  
  
"I was beginning to grow concerned. The portkey was after all timed. Peeves has been in a horrid mood since returning from Ireland, I hope he didn't trouble you."  
  
Harry blushed.  
  
"Is he Professor McGonagall's poltergeist?"  
  
Dumbledore had a thoughtful expression as he answered.  
  
"Since before you were born, Peeves has been bonded to this castle. He, believe it or not, is one of the many protections surrounding the castle and its inhabitants. He may depart of his own choosing at any time, but can never forcefully be removed."  
  
Dumbledore smiled and his eyes sparkled.  
  
"As to whom he originally was bound, that is a question I am not at liberty to answer for fear of a most swift and fierce retaliation."  
  
Harry grinned, taking that as a yes.  
  
"Now have you been practicing clearing your mind in the evenings?"  
  
"Err. Sometimes."  
  
Dumbledore frowned. "Please begin doing it every night. This is of the utmost importance."  
  
After a nod from Harry, they began.  
  
"Legilimens!"  
  
A scene from yesterday's Wizengot began to play.  
  
Moody released his hold on Harry's shoulder after a final piece of advice.  
  
"I tried to argue their tongues were dangerous items, but no one would let me remove them."  
  
Moody kept his magical eye fixed on Draco as Harry approached him.  
  
Draco's expression and voice exuded contempt.   
  
"Rather pleased with yourself today, Potter. This isn't over you know."  
  
"It is over for your father, Malfoy."  
  
Draco's eyes flashed with anger before a smirk settled on his features.   
  
"Shame your little pooch couldn't come with you today, Potter."  
  
Seeing he had hit his mark, Draco continued.  
  
"I'm sure he would have been a great comfort to you. At least my father is still alive. When this is all over, my father will be set free, but you'll still be out a mongrel."  
  
"Voldemort isn't going to win, Draco. Your father is just as good as dead for you."  
  
Draco's temper was rising too. "Who's going to stop him? You? I don't think so, Potty."  
  
Harry took a step closer to Draco.  
  
"I won't be alone. The Ministry, Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, they are all onto your master's plans. He won't succeed. So be a good little ferret and go run on back to your mummy."  
  
Draco peered Harry up and down. He gave Harry a look of pity as if Harry was a simpleton.  
  
"Still haven't got a clue about what's really going on, do you, Potter?"  
  
Draco's question was delivered more as a comment.  
  
"You think you are so righteous. You don't even know what it is they have you fighting for."  
  
Harry fought back and the memory ended.  
  
A few minutes later, they tried again. The same memory played, but a different part.  
  
"Sod off, you little ferret."  
  
Draco smirked. "Don't believe me, do you?"  
  
"Whatever gave you that idea?" said Harry sarcastically.  
  
Draco's smile took up more of his face.  
  
"Don't take my word for it, Potter. Ask him. Ask your great hero and look into his eyes when you do. Forget what he says, just watch for the answer in his eyes. You'll know then, I'm telling the truth."  
  
Again, Harry managed to make the memory stop.  
  
Professor Dumbledore observed him for a moment.  
  
"I do not wish to pry about a memory you unwillingly shared with me, but something young Mr. Malfoy said at the Wizengot appears to be bothering you. Was there something you would like to ask me?"  
  
Harry flushed and shook his head.  
  
Dumbledore replied, "Very well," but still kept looking at him.  
  
When the tap at the window by an owl diverted Dumbledore's attention, Harry was grateful.  
  
Dumbledore apologized. The owl needed an immediate response, but it would only take a few minutes. After offering Harry a chocolate frog from a container of several on his desk, Dumbledore sat down to reply.  
  
Once the owl had his reply, they began again.  
  
"Legilimens!"  
  
The same memory began again.  
  
Draco peered Harry up and down. He gave Harry a look of pity as if Harry was a simpleton.  
  
"Still haven't got a clue about what's really going on, do you, Potter?"  
  
Draco's question was delivered more as a comment.  
  
"You think you are so righteous. You don't even know what it is they have you fighting for."  
  
Harry kept his face neutral. "And I suppose you are going to explain it all for me?"  
  
"You still think Dumbledore is the great protector. You think all of this is a fight between good and evil. Well, sorry to disappoint you, Potter-"  
  
This wasn't happening. Harry would not show Professor Dumbledore the disgusting lies Draco Malfoy had said about him and Professor McGonagall. With all his concentration, Harry resisted.  
  
The scene shifted.  
  
It was Hogwarts again, but it wasn't the Headmaster's office. It was the Great Hall. Professor Dumbledore was standing. He was younger than now, his hair was all auburn without even a touch of silver. All around him screams could be heard.  
  
The other professors were rising from their seats. Harry recognized Armando Dippet, but none of the other professors looked familiar. Everyone was shouting out spells. Some were the same, but the people weren't organized. The spells weren't going off at the same time.  
  
Harry could see long tables of terrified children. Everyone, professors, students, everyone either had their faces upturned to the same exact spot in horrified awe or were attempting to flee from the spot. But Harry couldn't see what it was they saw, it was too high for his line of vision.  
  
In the present, Dumbledore shifted the focus back.  
  
Draco was so worked up, spittle was flying from his mouth as he spoke.  
  
"You think Dumbledore is so good and noble.  
  
Harry pushed back again.  
  
This time the Wizengot was replaced by a room Harry had never been in before. It was easy enough to identify it by the tile and the bathtub though. Something was wrong with the bathtub. The water looked black.  
  
Dumbledore was on his knees before the bathtub. This memory was more recent. His hair was silver, but somehow, he looked older than now.  
  
Dumbledore was pulling something out of the water. No, not something, someone. The face was obscured by long black hair plastered to it. It had been the hair floating that made the water appear black at first glance.  
  
Even with the hair in the way and some kind of cloth around it, the unnatural angle of the neck was clear. Cradling her against him with one arm, Dumbledore used the other hand to very gently begin clearing away the strands obscuring the woman's face.  
  
A new hand reached out to touch something on the neck. When it did, a low voice growled.  
  
"Merlin's beard! She is breathing still. Quick! Put her back under the water."  
  
As the memory was ended by Albus Dumbledore, Harry was almost certain the older man was being persuaded to hold the woman under the water again.  
  
Then it was the Headmaster's office again.  
  
Dumbledore looked utterly shocked. His voice was not well.  
  
"It would appear Professor Snape underestimated in his evaluation of your skill."  
  
Dumbledore was clearly distressed by the memory he had just seen.  
  
"Indeed if he evaluates Potions work on the same scale, I believe I will need to discuss a change in grading policy with him."  
  
Dumbledore wasn't the only one distressed. Harry couldn't stop staring at Professor Dumbledore.  
  
"What was that last memory?"  
  
  
  
Professor Dumbledore looked shattered by the memory. He shook his head.  
  
"That was a private memory. Much like yourself with Mr. Malfoy, I too have things I did not intend to share."  
  
Harry was still staring at Professor Dumbledore, but the older man was not facing him.  
  
Glancing at the Pensive, Dumbledore went on.  
  
"I must admit, given Professor Snape's appraisal of your skills, I only took the time to remove those memories that would be a security risk to the Order."  
  
Harry didn't really need to have the last memory explained to him to understand. The last memory had been stopped so quickly, that if it weren't for what Luna had said a few days ago, Harry would have had no idea what he had really seen. But given what Luna had said, it was clear what had been going on.  
  
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock of the Wizengot, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards had been drowning a woman. Harry hadn't actually been able to make out the woman's face, but he had a pretty good idea of who the woman was.  
  
"I think we have had enough practice for one day. I will send you back to The Burrow and we can continue this tomorrow."  
  
When Professor Dumbledore took a breath to steady himself and turned to face Harry, Harry looked him in the eye.  
  
"Draco Malfoy told me things…He said you…Have you ever used the Imperius Curse on Professor McGonagall?"  
  
Professor Dumbledore didn't answer. Not in words. But like Malfoy had suggested, Harry looked in Professor Dumbledore's eyes. Words were not necessary once he did. The blue eyes were not twinkling now. Instead they held such an admission of guilt, that Harry had to look away.  
  
When Professor Dumbledore opened his mouth to respond, Harry interrupted.  
  
"I think I would like that portkey now."  
  
A thousand thoughts whirled through Harry's mind. Bellatrix had said not to harm Professor McGonagall, Voldemort wanted her alive. Cedric Diggory's father had been so eager to get at Professor McGonagall. Her own muggle nephew's apparent disregard for her. Cornelius Fudge's response to the attacks yesterday. The way Kingsley Shacklebolt refused to even look at her when he delivered the letter. Was Professor McGonagall a Death Eater being held here against her will?  
  
Draco Malfoy said Harry didn't even know what Dumbledore had him fighting for. That Harry wasn't fighting for the side of right. What had he meant by that?  
  
Suddenly a lot of things were becoming clear to Harry. Now all those reassuring glances Harry had witnessed didn't seem so reassuring after all. The way no matter what happened, Professor McGonagall was so much more at ease when Professor Dumbledore was around had an entirely new meaning. As Snape once told him, 'Time and space matter in magic.' Was it Dumbledore reinforcing, strengthening the curse?  
  
McGonagall's smile when Peeves said he didn't like Professor Dumbledore had a meaning now.  
  
The growl telling Dumbledore to put her back under the water had been Alastor Moody's growl. Now Harry realized why Professor McGonagall had tensed when Moody tried to approach her the night of the attack. Why Moody had told Harry he would always be a monster to her. The other emotion on Moody's face, the one Harry couldn't quite place when he described Professor McGonagall's lack of reaction to the Cruciatus curse. Now Harry realized it was guilt. But then, if you are going to use one Unforgivable curse, why not use two of them?  
  
Again Dumbledore began to speak and again Harry cut him off.  
  
"The portkey please."  
  
"Harry-"  
  
"-I just want to leave."  
  
Finally, Dumbledore did as he asked.  
  
It wasn't just the jerking motion of the portkey that made Harry's insides churn as the portkey went off.  
  
**********************************  
  
After arriving at The Burrow, Harry was too confused to want to speak with the others about what had happened or even try to think about it.  
  
It was only late that night when the rest of the house was asleep that Harry tried to focus his mind on the day's events.  
  
It didn't make sense. There had to be another explanation. After all, if it was true, if Professor Dumbledore was capable of such things, why hadn't Professor Dumbledore obliviated him? Altered or just removed the memory entirely? Draco Malfoy was a liar, he always had been.  
  
But there was no denying the look of guilt in Professor Dumbledore's eyes when he had asked Draco Malfoy's question. And if it wasn't true, how had Malfoy known the look would be there? 


	14. Chapter 14

A/N I am beginning to think I should wait longer between posting chapters.  
  
*sniff, sniff* Poor chapter 12 only got 2 reviews and chapter 13 only 3 reviews.  
  
After Harry had used the portkey, Albus returned to his desk. For hours, he just sat there going over and over things in his mind. He could have used the pensive, but he didn't. He tried to figure out where he had gone wrong with the boy. At exactly what point, had he so completely lost the boy's trust that Harry could believe him capable of such things?  
  
And yet, why shouldn't Harry believe it? The boy had looked him in the eyes as he asked the question. Albus had been too shocked by the question to properly answer it in words, but it wasn't words Harry had been looking for. Harry had been looking into his eyes and there he had seen an answer very clearly - the eyes of a guilty man. It was true.  
  
And yes, it was indeed true. He had used an Unforgivable curse on Minerva. He had once upon a time forced the woman he now adored with all his heart to do something against her will. But it wasn't anything like what Draco Malfoy and Tom Riddle would try to make it out to be.  
  
It was just once, and so very, very long ago. Things had all happened so quickly and there was no time to explain. No time to try to make her understand, to get her to help his efforts. He had needed more power than he possessed, so he had taken hers.  
  
Afterwards, some of the others had congratulated him on his quick thinking and ingenuity, but he had shrugged them off. Even when he was forming the words in his mind to cast the spell, he was already sickened by what he was doing.  
  
But at the time, at the time he had thought it the answer. To this day, he regretted it. He would give anything to undo it, but what's done is done and can never be undone.  
  
And of course Tom Riddle had been there. Afterwards, in all the confusion, in the sorting of the dead, the injured and those merely frightened, at first no one had noticed her absence. Tom Riddle had seen it all and then whisked her away with him. Her supposed rescuer. Minerva had been so trusting, so confused. She had offered no resistance. At least not until later, when Tom had shown his true intentions.  
  
Sometimes, walking through the castle dungeons, Albus was sure he could still hear the sound of her terrified screams, echoing. He tended to avoid visiting the dungeons when at all possible.  
  
Minerva had never been one to dwell on the past and she seldom spoke of things once they were done. Years ago, before they had begun to pursue a more personal relationship, they had discussed the incident. He had felt it necessary to bring it up and out in the open. It was one of the innumerable reasons, he had back then, resisted for so long his feelings towards her. He had worried that any feelings she might have towards him were influenced by remnants of the curse.  
  
Even now, so rarely, but sometimes, it weighed upon his mind. The fear that just maybe her love for him was not of her own free will.  
  
And so, it was many hours later that he was still at his desk when he heard the soft click of the door above him. He couldn't hear her footsteps coming down the staircase or crossing the floor, but many years of experience told him they were there.  
  
When the grey and black tabby cat jumped onto his desk, he was not at all surprised. The cat took in the sight of the desk, uncluttered by any work and then came to sit directly in front of him. When the cat tilted her head at him inquiringly, he said nothing and only watched back in return.  
  
After another moment of their staring contest, the cat was finally replaced by the woman of his thoughts.  
  
It was a warm summer night and there were no students about so no need of the ridiculous green tartan dressing gown. Her waist length hair had no restraint. The nightshirt was not her own. It was her custom to wear one of his nightshirts on nights when he was slow to come to bed. She said she wanted to have the scent of him about her. When he did come to bed she always gladly exchanged the shirt for him.  
  
The nightshirt, being as it was his, was longer than one of her nightdresses. Still with the way her transformation had left her legs dangling off of the edge of his desk, even his nightshirt did not reach all the way to her feet.  
  
He reached down and began to gently caress an ankle with each hand.  
  
He knew she had taken note of his melancholy mood as soon as she entered the room. When she spoke, her voice was gentle and loving, even if the words were reprimanding.  
  
"What are you doing here still? I can see you were not doing any urgent work."  
  
His hands began to softly trail up and down the outer sides of her legs beneath the shirt. Still he did not speak.  
  
"I have been home waiting for you. You know I can not sleep without you."  
  
His hands trailed down again. This time when his hands went back up, they took the light covering of cotton with them. It pooled on the desk at her waist.  
  
Minerva protested as he leaned down and let his kisses slowly wander up her inner thigh.  
  
"Albus, what are you doing?"  
  
He thought it fairly clear what he was doing so he didn't stop to reply.  
  
"Albus, really! What has gotten into you tonight?"  
  
She protested, but he knew she didn't mean it. There had been a time when she hadn't been able to let anyone touch her. A time when she couldn't stop her whole body from tensing. When she couldn't help but pull away - even from him. But that time was far behind them.  
  
Now as his kisses reached higher, her legs instinctively spread, welcoming him. As his lips parted to let his tongue pass, she lay back on his desk and gave a gasp. In the gasp was a name.  
  
"Armando."  
  
"Oh for Merlin's sake! I'm going." grumbled the portrait as its resident left for the halls of the Ministry of Magic.  
  
Albus couldn't help but smile. Minerva, having never met in life, the other portrait residents, was unphased by their presence. But poor, beleaguered Armando Dippet had quite often over the years been evicted from his former office.  
  
Knowing Minerva so many years, Albus had a detailed knowledge of her likes and dislikes. It did not take him long to achieve what he set out to do. He relished the way her body quivered pleasantly beneath his mouth.  
  
Afterwards, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her stomach to listen. Minerva lay contentedly on his desk trying to settle her ragged breathing. He knew it would take her a few minutes to speak again, but already he could hear what he wanted.  
  
"You are purring."  
  
He loved the sound of her purring. It was such a clear, honest sign of her happiness. For years, she had denied she did it, embarrassed by it carrying over from her animagus form. But oh, how he adored it. To have such direct, unmistakable proof of her contentedness.  
  
"So what if I am?"  
  
Her purring was too loud and her sigh too contented for her attempt at a dry tone to be convincing.  
  
"Not that I am complaining, but you know that wasn't what I meant when I said I couldn't sleep without you."  
  
As her hands began to stroke his silvery hair, once so auburn he asked his question of her.  
  
"Have I ever made you do anything you didn't want to do?"  
  
She didn't say anything for a moment as she tried to puzzle out what he was getting at. Finally, unable to figure it out, she replied.  
  
"You have had a hard enough time over the years, getting me to do the things I wanted to do. I hardly think you would stand much of a chance getting me to do something I did not want to do."  
  
It was a good answer he knew. Both of them had wasted far too long through the years being difficult. Not that they hadn't shared some thirty wonderful years together, but still he regretted the years they had foolishly squandered.  
  
"Why do you love me?"  
  
Without lifting his head, he knew at least one eyebrow had gone up at his question. Most likely both.  
  
"What has gotten into you today?"  
  
He smiled. "Kindly answer the question."  
  
She sighed, but as the purring did not stop, he was unconcerned.  
  
Her tone wasn't angry, just a little irritated. Not at him he knew. A bit at the question maybe, but mostly at her own answer. She despised being less than eloquent, but verbally expressing her feelings was difficult for her. It always had been.  
  
"I do not know. You are tender and loving, noble. The scent of you makes me feel secure."  
  
She frowned and struggled for words.  
  
"You understand me, you accept me without question - took a while to train you on that one. Apparently you are relapsing."  
  
He couldn't help a chuckle at that.  
  
She continued. "You make me feel warm inside. You consume me. You complete me. I long since stopped feeling whole without you."  
  
Her voice went from contemplative to exasperated and back again to contemplative as she spoke.  
  
"You make me purr. You are the only one who has ever done that. Well, except when I am a cat. Than anyone who finds the right spot under my chin or behind my ears can do it. There is more, but I can not for the life of me tell you now."  
  
She sighed again and tried to turn the tables.  
  
"Why do you love me?"  
  
His response was so simple, it took only four words. He knew she would be annoyed after trying so hard to elaborate for him, but it had been his answer for many years now.  
  
"You are my everything."  
  
After a few moments of comfortable silence, she asked again.   
  
"What happened tonight?"  
  
He knew she was referring to his reflective mood and not the earlier expression of his love. Through the years, the portraits of his office had bore witness to innumerable such acts.  
  
"Harry had his first occlumency lesson with me today."  
  
"I see." Minerva said knowingly. "Was it your memory or Harry's that upset you?"  
  
"Something he said actually."  
  
She waited expectantly.  
  
"He knows I used the Imperius curse on you."  
  
It was a long time before she spoke again. He didn't need to use legilimency, indeed he never would use it on her, to know she was lost in remembrance. When she did speak, she sounded so fragile.  
  
"What did he say after you told him why?"  
  
Albus shrugged against her.  
  
"I was so surprised when he said it, I couldn't even put together a response."  
  
Her purring had stopped.  
  
"I killed Robert."  
  
He held her tighter.  
  
"Oh Minerva, that was not your intention."  
  
"But I still did it. What will Harry think of me when he finds out?"  
  
"Minerva, it happened a very long time ago. It won't change Harry's opinion of you."  
  
He wanted desperately to say something to reassure her.  
  
"He doesn't even like History of Magic class. Besides, it's not like anyone could even tell the difference. Certainly his students never did."  
  
Minerva couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"Oh, Albus, you are horrid!"  
  
Her voice was much more certain this time. More importantly, the purring had started again.  
  
"Come home with me now. It is rather late and I am not through with you yet for the night. You can speak to Harry in the morning."  
  
Standing, he took one of her hands and kissed it.  
  
"As always, anything you wish, my dear."  
  
A/N Okay expect answers to start _slowly_ trickling in next chapter after Dumbledore talks to Harry.  
  
And I have no idea in what fic I read Binn's first name as being Robert, but if anyone knows please let me know. It stuck with me so well that I was actually convinced it was his canon name. 


	15. Chapter 15

A/N Big thanks to Minerva Dumbledore1 for offering to Beta this chapter. She did a great job and any errors use still see where simply my interpretation of the way this narrator presents himself.  
  
If you have a minute after reading this story and want a little chuckle check out my other story When Kneazles Attack http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1534554  
  
It is incredibly short, nothing to do with this story, and literally won't take more than a minute to read and review.  
  
More A/N with individual thanks and answers to people's questions about earlier chapters at the end of this chapter.  
  
In the morning, before leaving his office and Hogwarts to apparate to the area around The Burrow, Dumbledore filled his Pensive with all the memories he believed to be relevant. That not all the memories were his own was, he believed a necessity if he wanted to make Harry fully understand why certain events had occurred and indeed were still occurring. Through the years, in his own attempts to better understand things that had come to pass, Albus Dumbledore had harvested the memories of a few others.  
  
After making his way through the expanded wards around the Weasley home, Dumbledore quickly said his greetings to the others before requesting Harry to accompany him into the back garden. That Harry was willing to come at all, albeit was reluctantly, Dumbledore took as a good sign. Perhaps, at least Dumbledore hoped, having had a bit more time to think about what he had seen and heard, Harry had begun to realize that things are not always as clear cut as we would like them to be. And as Alastor Moody had so clearly stated twice in Harry's shared memory yesterday, Draco Malfoy's tongue was a dangerous thing and never to be fully trusted.  
  
"Harry, I want to explain some things to you. I believe you left my office yesterday with some incorrect perceptions."  
  
When Harry made no interruption and still would not meet his eyes, Dumbledore continued.  
  
"I have entered into the Pensive a series of memories that I believe pertain to the question you asked last night. I did have occasion once in the past to use the Imperius curse on Professor McGonagall. But I think, after you have seen the events leading up to it, you will come to the conclusion that my intentions were not without honor."  
  
Dumbledore gestured towards the Pensive, inviting Harry to enter. Harry paused for a moment, then met his gaze. Seeing only warmth and kindness, he nodded before entering.  
  
Dumbledore wanting to give him the privacy needed to draw his own conclusions did not enter with Harry Potter. Instead he remained outside and merely observed. Truth be told, mused Albus Dumbledore, perhaps the true reason for not entering was because he himself wished to remember without the constant interruption of the questions he knew Harry would have asked had he been present.  
  
And so standing outside, staring into the Pensive, Dumbledore too remembered the past events. Unlike the abbreviated memories Harry viewed, Dumbledore's version was fuller and contained some details he deemed too personal, for the sake of others, to have Harry view.  
  
***************************************  
  
Even Headmaster Dippet was surprised when Artemisia arrived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for dinner. A gifted Seer, Dippet was seldom surprised. But a Seer's Sight could often be distorted by the vision of one more powerful and even as a child Artemisia's Sight had always been without peer.  
  
As the only survivor of the fire that had wiped out the Wizengamot Council and killed her mother, Mnemosyne, Armando Dippet had taken it upon himself to see to the girl's upbringing. Truth be told, given that Mnemosyne was the one who started the fire and sealed the chamber doors so that no one sitting in judgment of her could leave, it was not terribly surprising that no one else had been willing to claim the girl. It was only because of his animagus form, a salamander, that he had managed to survive. That he was never very gifted at Transfiguration and indeed had never attempted the animagus transformation before, nor since that day was knowledge that would not be entirely unexpected to those who knew him best.  
  
Try as he had to bring peace and love or at least stability to the young girl's life upon acquiring her, Armando had always felt his influence was no match to that of the girl's late mother. The old adage 'the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world' does often hold true and being as she was of the House of Themis, no father had ever been present to temper the righteous anger and outrage of Mnemosyne.  
  
Artemisia had remained with Dippet for eight long years. In that time, she walked the corridors and classrooms of Hogwarts unchallenged by faculty or student. Even the castle spirits did not molest her. Having once had the misfortune of walking through Artemisia, the Bloody Baron claimed to have received a chill from her. Upon reaching legal age and leaving, she had foretold only seeing Dippet again shortly before one of their deaths.  
  
Being as she was thirty and he was beginning to seriously contemplate the possibility of a third century, it was with no small amount of trepidation that Armando Dippet greeted Artemisia when she suddenly appeared in his office. His Deputy Headmaster and Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, Professor Shackleton, was perhaps more startled. Looking into Artemisia's cold gray eyes, he dropped the stack of parchments in his hand and forgetting he was a wizard, kneeled to pick them up.  
  
Armando was certain the evening of surprises had only just begun when the Minister of Magic arrived under the mistaken impression that Dippet had invited him for dinner.  
  
Shortly after, when they sat down to dinner in the Great Hall, even with the added presence of Artemisia, Minister Asgard, and the young auror currently serving as his bodyguard, Alastor Moody, the faculty table looked deserted. Artemisia's reputation preceded her and only three professors choose to dine that evening. Transfiguration Master Albus Dumbledore, Care of Magical Creatures Master Sigurd and the Astronomy Mistress Brynhild were the only ones either brave enough or foolish enough to attend.  
  
When all were seated, it was Minister Asgard who broke the silence.  
  
"Dippet, if you didn't invite me here for dinner, would someone kindly explain what I am doing here?"  
  
"I assure you Minister, it was not I who summoned you." Dippet replied calmly. Eyeing Artemisia, he tried without success to gage what her intentions were.  
  
"Moody, you are the one that brought me here. Why did you tell me we were to have dinner with the Headmaster of Hogwarts?"  
  
The handsome young auror blushed furiously and shot a look at Artemisia, as if expecting her to respond for him. Artemisia for her part kept looking at the door expectantly. Giving up hope of her intervention, Moody stammered out a reply.  
  
"Well, you see sir…It..It wasn't on your schedule, but Unspeakable Themis…Sir, she stopped by your office this afternoon to remind me. She said you were to have dinner at Hogwarts this evening with Headmaster Dippet."  
  
Asgard only looked at Artemisia with great reluctance.  
  
"What is the meaning of this?"  
  
Artemisia fixed the Minister with a smile that never reached her eyes.  
  
"I have been having a great many visions of Hogwarts recently. One of today's included all of us being here together at dinner. As you can see, my visions always come true."  
  
Professor Brynhild, having never met Artemisia before, didn't know it was best not to respond.  
  
"I really do not think someone showing up to dinner after you invite them counts as a successful prediction."  
  
The expression of pure wrath Artemisia directed at the other woman was enough to make Dippet stand in anticipation.  
  
The appearance of a house elf diverted her attentions, however. The house elf on standing orders from Dippet, began removing all the unnecessary place settings and chairs. Dippet found nothing as disturbing as empty settings at a table. The Seer in him always found the sight to be a harbinger of death and ill tidings. Truth be told, tonight the house elves need not have bothered. Artemisia herself was a more accurate omen of unpleasant things to come than even the Grim. Like a Dementor, happiness and any pleasant feelings could not abide in her presence.  
  
"Leave one setting." Artemisia commanded. As an after thought she added, " And two chairs."  
  
"Who else is coming?" Asked a disturbed Asgard .  
  
Artemisia's lips curled into the closest approximation of a smile she could manage.  
  
"Grindelwald."  
  
Dippet noticed the shudder go through the Minister of Magic. It was well known, that Asgard was not fond of either of the Unspeakables who spent their days in the Department of Mysteries filling little glass orbs with predictions of the future. But then really was anyone fond of either of them?  
  
Artemisia was cold and cruel. She made a point out of inflicting as much punishment as she could on anyone she came into contact with, and this habit extended to her predictions. Though never inaccurate, she had a disturbing way in which she phrased her predictions. If ever there was a way to take the happiest or most benign future and dement it, she found it. If it were an honest mistake it would be one thing, but Artemisia viewed the future clearly. She willingly chose to misrepresent things.  
  
Grindelwald on the other hand was just disagreeable and barely competent. Oh, he did have the Sight certainly, but he was nearsighted enough that he might just as well have been blind. While Artemisia mangled prophecies to suit her own purposes, Grindelwald just mangled them. This lacking on Grindelwald's part, much like any weakness she found in others, was something Artemisia took great delight in pointing out at any opportunity.  
  
"You invited him as well?"  
  
"Not in so many words, but I did leave notice I would be here. And he will come."  
  
"Why two chairs?" Asgard persisted.  
  
"Because the first will soon be uninhabitable."  
  
Not even Dippet could decipher what that meant. He gave up trying when shortly after the doors to the Great Hall flew open and in came the man in question. Grindelwald's robes billowed menacingly, which matched well with the expression of absolute fury that contorted his features.  
  
As he approached the Head table, Artemisia rose to greet him. "What an unexpected surprise, Grindelwald."  
  
In response, Grindelwald threw an orb past Artemisia where it shattered against the wall. The content of the prophecy within it was drowned out by the seething roar of the man who threw it.  
  
"How dare you! How dare you alter one of my prophecies!"  
  
Artemisia shrugged, enjoying the response she had elicited. "I merely corrected it for you. You should be grateful. It's not my fault your Vision is clouded."  
  
Attempting to diffuse the situation, Dippet gestured to the unclaimed place setting. "As you are here anyway, join us for dinner, Grindelwald."  
  
For a moment, it appeared that Grindelwald was planning to continue the conversation with Artemisia. But really, what could the man say in response to the truth? Instead, the man took the seat offered without waiting for Artemisia to be reseated.  
  
For anyone else, this would have signified nothing. For Grindelwald however, it held a greater meaning. A firm conformer to the old rules of etiquette, Grindelwald never took a seat before it had been offered and never sat before all ladies present had been seated.  
  
This did not pass Artemisia's notice. With a look of outrage she commented, "All the ladies have not yet been seated."  
  
Pleased his slight had been noticed, Grindelwald responded. "I do not see any ladies standing."  
  
"You will stand before me or you will writhe at my feet in agony."  
  
When Grindelwald made no movement beyond a smirk in her direction, Artemisia drew her wand. All present with the exception of Grindelwald rose in alarm. Before anything could be done to stop her, Artemisia cast.  
  
"Incendio!"  
  
As his chair erupted in flames, Grindelwald by necessity rose as well. When Grindelwald bowed and chuckled in response before moving down the table to push in Artemisia's chair for her, Armando could not help but wonder exactly what went on between the two Unspeakables when they were alone back at the Department of Mysteries.  
  
After the young auror extinguished the flames, everyone still rather disturbed settled back into their own chairs. Grindelwald made use of the second chair left for him.  
  
As the first course appeared, Artemisia, never one to let something pass, again turned her attentions to the other lady present.  
  
"Tell me Professor. What is it you teach here?"  
  
"Astronomy," was the wary reply.  
  
"That must be very interesting for you, I am sure."  
  
Artemisia's wicked grin again appeared as she turned her attentions to the Headmaster. In a voice loud enough to reach back to Professor Brynhild, she asked a question of him.  
  
"Tell me Armando, have you found a replacement for her yet? For next year, I mean."  
  
Armando Dippet frowned, but expressed no denial as the table went quiet and Professor Brynhild dropped her spoon. Indeed, he had already begun making discreet inquiries.  
  
"Must you always be so cruel, Artemisia?"  
  
"I'm simply trying to make polite dinner conversation," responded Artemisia, in an anything but innocent tone. "Surely, you noticed by now she will not be…shall we say available to teach next year?"  
  
Armando watched as with a look of horror, the Astronomy Mistress fled the room.  
  
The Creature Master Sigurd had only one comment to share with Artemisia before following after to comfort his colleague.  
  
"Go back to hell where you belong."  
  
Artemisia chuckled in response.  
  
"Yes, he will need to be replaced next year as well."  
  
Turning her attentions now to the as yet quiet Transfiguration Master, Artemisia asked. "What say you Dumbledore? Do you think I belong in hell?"  
  
Armando watched as risking her ire, Dumbledore responded without the slightest diffidence. "A great poet once said something to the effect of, 'Some people can make a heaven out of hell or a hell out of heaven'. I do believe you would fall into the latter category."  
  
Armando noticed he was the only one who could bring himself to chuckle at the reply. Artemisia also seemed amused, but with her even that wasn't always enough.  
  
"Let me offer you a few brief words of your future. 'Whom the gods love die young."  
  
Armando was pleased to see that Dumbledore was not so easily distressed as some of his colleagues.  
  
"Artemisia, I never knew you were fond of muggle poetry. While age wise, even I would hardly call myself young, I do believe the full passage you are referring to, by Margaret Bruner is  
  
'Whom the gods love die young, I used to quote  
  
Glibly, but in the rather thoughtless way,  
  
One says a thing that he has learned by rote  
  
Nor knows the meaning which the words convey.  
  
For then I thought it meant they died when young  
  
In years, and this no doubt is often true;  
  
But now with time a clearer note has rung  
  
New meaning to the words; there are a few  
  
Whom time can never age-not even with years;  
  
These keep a dream, nor let its flame burn low…  
  
They look ahead, beyond regrets and tears-  
  
Old age is something they can never know.'  
  
So Artemisia, I will take your words as a compliment and leave it at that."  
  
Again filling his spoon with consommé, the auburn haired man paused with it in the air looking slightly distressed for the first time. "Although, I do hope this does not mean you favor me. The name Artemisia is I believe a derivative of the goddess Artemis?"  
  
With the closest thing to a real smile Dippet had even seen on her face, Artemisia responded.  
  
"To answer your question, no, I do not offer favor to you. I leave your fate with a later goddess. Actually, I was named for the painter Artemisia. You may recall she was wronged by a man and unjustly put on trial after attempting to bring charges against him. My mother was also a Seer and knew her own fate. You could consider it her sense of humor."  
  
Asgard had finally regained his tongue.  
  
"Yes, your line has only turned out Seers for the many generations now. A pity really." Seeing Artemisia's glare, he quickly amended. "Not that it isn't a useful ability, but even you must admit some of the other abilities your line is said to carry are considerably more valuable."  
  
Artemisia was not to be appeased so easily. "Pity your line has never managed to produce anything of worth."  
  
During the next course, Artemisia again attempted to strike up her peculiar idea of conversation with the others.  
  
"Tell me Armando, what say you of fate and destiny? Do you think what happens is predestined or is there some room for negotiation in it all?"  
  
Disturbed at not knowing what it was she was getting at, Dippet responded truthfully.  
  
"I believe people make their own choices. They decide who they want to be by their own actions. That they do not always get the outcome they intended is not to say it is the fault of fate."  
  
Artemisia did not agree.  
  
"I think everything is predestined. I don't believe any of us have a choice in what we do."  
  
"I am not surprised you feel that way." Armando Dippet responded. "You must think it an apt excuse for the things you do."  
  
Ignoring the slight, Artemisia added. "If we had a choice, if the future could be altered, why is it already set? My visions always remain constant."  
  
The Minister of Magic wanted no further part of the conversation, nor did the young auror. Dumbledore began to offer his contribution, but Artemisia had no desire to hear from him.  
  
"Nothing you could say is relevant yet, Dumbledore. What say you, Grindelwald?"  
  
Having no opinion of his own on the matter or at least unwilling to share it, Grindelwald again expressed a sentiment stated earlier in the evening.  
  
"Go back to hell where you belong, Artemisia."  
  
  
  
"Only if I can take you with me."  
  
Not content to let the matter drop, Artemisia continued the discussion by herself.  
  
"The centaurs believe in predestination, even the unicorns do. When I was younger I used to wander the forests on these grounds. The centaurs say to slay a unicorn is a monstrous thing, but the unicorns don't seem to mind. The unicorns are so magical, so powerful, and yet for their own behalf, they will not intercede in the actions of other beings. The Herdmaster once told me that a piercing of any kind could kill a unicorn because the wound will not heal by itself. It just keeps bleeding. The way to heal a unicorn is to feed them the blood of another unicorn. The blood of a unicorn will keep a human from dying, no matter how close to death, but it will not restore them. But for another unicorn, it will restore them to full health. The unicorns know this and if they get hurt wandering through the forest, they seek out another of their kind. But the Herdmaster said if a person intentionally injures them they will not seek out assistance. They prefer to accept their lot. Admirable creatures really."  
  
The rest of the meal passed without further incident. As the final course arrived, Artemisia suggested a tour of the school to the others. When Dippet pointed out that all present already knew the school quite well having either attended at one point or currently being employed there, Artemisia insisted he at least accompany her.  
  
"I don't think you have ever quite experienced the school the way I have begun to lately."  
  
With not a small amount of trepidation, Dippet acquiesced. When the last course was cleared, he rose expectantly. Artemisia, however made no such movement.  
  
"Let the blind leave. Then we can begin here."  
  
Gladly, the Minister and his escort departed. Dippet looked on as Dumbledore also excused himself. When only Artemisia, Grindelwald, and himself remained, Artemisia's lips twitched as she spoke again.  
  
"Grindelwald, off with you. I said the blind could leave."  
  
"Die witch."  
  
Artemisia's mouth broke into a full grin. "Make me."  
  
Seeing that he was not to be put off, Artemisia began.  
  
"Do you see it, Armando? So much of it is in this very room."  
  
Armando frowned. "I have seen it."  
  
Not being able to see it, Grindelwald didn't frown as much as Armando.  
  
"I think it is glorious. Magnificent, like a work of art."  
  
"You would. You truly are soulless, Artemisia."  
  
  
  
"That very well may be, Armando. But I never could accomplish this. You must admit it is quite an achievement."  
  
"I would hardly call it an achievement. Somehow my idea of an achievement doesn't involve so much carnage. I cannot tell the why though. Do you see the why?"  
  
Artemisia shrugged. "Yes, but I do not intend to tell you. After all does it matter? Does the why really matter? Isn't it enough that she does it?"  
  
"I think it does matter."  
  
Seeing Grindelwald's unalarmed expression, Artemisia laughed. "You truly are blind, Grindelwald. Come, let us wander the halls, there is much more to be seen."  
  
Artemisia gave a chuckle whenever they passed a suit of armor. The banister of the first staircase she reached was caressed lovingly. "She will be rather clever, ingenious really. Some of the ways she kills them…I must say the greenhouse is my personal favorite. What is yours, Armando?"  
  
Armando stopped his walking and put a hand on Artemisia's arm, making her turn to face him. "I don't understand the children. What is to become of the children? They are all there and then I simply can not see them anymore."  
  
Artemisia again showed him her cruel smile. "Well, I should say the greenhouse is my favorite out of the ways she eliminates the adults. What she does to the little monstrosities running about, well, I would call it poetic really."  
  
Turning to Grindelwald, she asked him.  
  
"What is your opinion of what she does to the children?"  
  
Not content to leave the taunt at that, Artemisia smiled seductively at Grindelwald before making an offer.  
  
"Would you like to see, Grindelwald? I can show you."  
  
"How?" asked Grindelwald.  
  
Dippet could hold his tongue no longer.  
  
"Do not listen to her. Do not take that which she offers you. You do not wish to see this."  
  
Ignoring the man older and wiser than himself, Grindelwald again asked. "How?"  
  
"Give me your hand." Artemisia commanded.  
  
Dippet watched with sickening realization as Grindelwald gazed into Artemisia's cold gray eyes, attempting to penetrate their depths. He made a final effort to warn the man away.  
  
"I give you my word, Grindelwald, once you see this future you will wish you never had. You will never again know peace of mind. Take what she offers and you will become a part of it."  
  
Never one to admit he had betters, Grindelwald was not one to take their advice. He extended his hand. Armando Dippet bore witness to Artemisia slashing his palm and her own. Grindelwald, fool that he was, only looked on in surprise as Artemisia touched the palms together, mingling the bloods. As the last remnant of an ancient bloodline, Artemisia had no need to cast a spell or utter an incantation to produce a bond. The exchange of bloods was enough.  
  
As the ancient marriage bond took hold, Artemisia again shared her cruel laugh with the world. The ancient bonds served many uses. Unlike the marriage ceremonies most commonly practiced today, they were irreversible, lasting until the death of one of the parties. The old ceremonies were used as a sort of restriction, providing if not fidelity between the parties, at least the assurance that any children conceived would have to be the work of both. Another use, the reason Grindelwald had agreed, was that the bond allowed for the pooling of certain powers, including the Sight.  
  
Whether it was just that he was only seeing this future clearly for the first time, or it was the now sure knowledge that he would be the father of this future, either way, what was revealed to Grindelwald horrified him. Armando Dippet looked on as a stunned Grindelwald began to see the terrible images that so pleased Artemisia. Their raven haired, gray eyed daughter would someday come to wander these halls. During a party, which by the difference in her attire from the others, it appeared she had not been invited to, from room to room, all through the castle she would go, slaughtering every adult participant she found. And Gods, the children. What she did to the children, well, Armando tried not to think of such things.  
  
Armando knew Grindelwald to be an unlikable man, but he also knew him not to be so irredeemable as Artemisia. And even if he hadn't known it before, he would know it now watching Grindelwald take Artemisia by the shoulders and shake her, trying to get the answer they both sought to rattle out. The bond did after all allow something for the sharing of power, but the sharing was not often equitable, and still Grindelwald could not see the future as well as Artemisia.  
  
"Why? Why does she do this? Tell me the why! There has to be a reason. A cause. If you tell us the why maybe we can do something to prevent this. To stop her."  
  
Artemisia, never one to be helpful only chuckled, amused.  
  
"Why ever would we want to stop her?"  
  
A/N Laura I absolutely love the way you do your reviews. Knowing exactly what managed to hit home with the reader is priceless. And as for your predictions- well I love them too. Its great to see people working to try to put together the clues and red herrings I dropped. And I do take heed of what you say. You actually provoked me to write a few more explicit love scene, which unfortunately you won't see for many chapters.  
  
Mavidian I'm glad you appreciated the 'Afterwards, Harry liked to think' paragraph. I wanted to use it to build the suspense and to remind the reader that while the children were there, they are children and were just too shocked or too slow to respond to the very unexpected situation they found themselves in.  
  
Diggory is not related to the Longbottoms, he is just slowly being consumed by his son's death. Lacking the ability to directly lash out at his son's murderer, he turns against a person it is known that at least in the past, Voldemort has….hmm wait never mind, can't give you too much information ;-  
  
As for your other question about another of my stories, Midnight Wanderings it will actually eventually be absorbed as a chapter of this story and be continued in that way. In my mind, the majority of this story is already planned out and its not uncommon for me to get the uncontrollable urge to write a segment before I really need to in the chronology of this story. I just couldn't wait to share that chapter any longer, so I cleaned it up a bit and put it up as a stand alone/teaser for this story.   
  
Thank you again for reviewing petriebird18, Dark Lulu, Minerva Dumbledore1, Redwoman06, LinZe, VoyICJ, Minerva Lea, Tabby Girl, Child-of-the -Dawn, and CEA. 


	16. Chapter 16

A/NWarning : BIG ick factor to this chapter!  
  
Anthropomancy is the practice of divination using the entrails of a human sacrifice.  
  
******************************  
  
Armando Dippet threw a handful of powder into the fire before clearly calling out, "Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement."  
  
When the head appeared in the fire, he stated the facts calmly.  
  
"There has been a murder in the forest near the school. The House of Themis is no more."  
  
*********************************  
  
It was Auror Alastor Moody who was sent to investigate the matter. He was young and rather inexperienced, but perhaps that was the point. After all, it was Artemisia Themis who had been killed. It wasn't as if anyone really wanted the case solved. Even the Minister of Magic joked he wasn't sure if the party responsible deserved a stint in Azkaban or Order of Merlin, First Class.  
  
When Moody arrived, his first question reasonably enough was, "Who found the body?"   
  
He later explained it was because more often than not, the person who yelled 'Fire' was the one who started it.  
  
When Armando Dippet responded, "No one, yet," Alastor Moody's life began to rapidly go downhill.  
  
"If no one found the body, how do you know Artemisia is dead?"  
  
"I Saw her," responded Armando.  
  
"Then you were the one who found the body?" Moody pressed.  
  
"No, I didn't find her. I merely Saw her."  
  
Trying another angle, Moody asked, "Did you kill her?"  
  
Armando sighed. "No, I have not seen Artemisia since that evening we all had dinner together in the Great Hall."  
  
"Until today when you found her body, that it?"  
  
Armando frowned at the young auror. "I didn't find her body. I merely Saw you finding her body."  
  
Moody frowned now as well. "I didn't find her body."  
  
"No, not yet," agreed Armando Dippet. "Venture into the forest now and you will."  
  
***********************************  
  
Not far into the forest, Alastor Moody did indeed find the lifeless body of Artemisia. Normal protocol is to first ensure a person is deceased, but the young auror and the Groundskeeper who accompanied him were too busy retching to check for a pulse. Not that it mattered really. One look at the body left no room for misunderstanding. Artemisia Themis had been cut down the middle and all of her insides were now carefully arranged outside.  
  
**************************************  
  
When Alastor Moody went to inform the bereaved husband, he assumed the man's lack of shock was because, like Dippet, he too had already Seen the news. Since his bonding with Artemisia, Grindelwald had gone from the poorest excuse of a Seer to one of the most accurate and sought after Visionaries of their time. Years later, Moody would learn Grindelwald had indeed seen the events, just not the way Moody had assumed.  
  
Married for only three months, now a widower for life, Grindelwald insisted on hearing all the details. Moody reluctantly supplied them.  
  
"We found her in the forest, cut from stern to stem. Most of her organs were removed from inside her body and arranged around her."  
  
Grindelwald persisted. "Continue."  
  
Moody shrugged uncomfortably.  
  
"The weapon hasn't been recovered yet. There were no footprints near the…scene, a number of hoof marks, but it is a forest after all. We are looking for the centaurs, to ask if they saw anything or anyone. So far we haven't found any of them. You know how they are, never turning up if you want a word."  
  
It wasn't the information Grindelwald was looking for.  
  
"Do not attempt to spare my feelings. Tell me the part you left out."  
  
Moody was genuinely confused. He had told the man everything. He had given him the horrific details about his wife's death. What feelings was he supposed to be protecting? What could be worse than telling the man his wife had died that way?"  
  
"I don't know what you mean."  
  
"Tell me what else you found there. I have…I need to hear it."  
  
When Moody insisted that was all, Grindelwald demanded to return with him to the scene.  
  
*****************************  
  
As he himself was still quite revolted by the sight before him, Moody couldn't understand the man's reaction. Grindelwald practically ignored his wife's face. Instead, he was more concerned with the parts arranged around her.  
  
"No! No! No! Where is it?"  
  
With Artemisia's passing, Grindelwald seemed to have returned to his less than all knowing ways. Grindelwald pointed to an empty spot around the body. He demanded of Moody, "Did you move it?"  
  
That was the first time Moody realized the careful arrangement around Artemisia had a gap.  
  
"No, no one has altered anything. What is missing?"  
  
Not an internist, Moody wasn't completely sure of the identity of each of the organs and couldn't even be sure they were all present. Also not an anthropomanist, or even a Diviner of any sort, he didn't know the significance of the arrangement.  
  
Perhaps if Moody were a more experienced auror or if as was customary in murder cases, a team of aurors had been sent, these things would not have been overlooked for as long as they were.  
  
When Grindelwald didn't speak and simply wandered off into the forest, Alastor Moody took his behavior to be the reaction of a distraught husband at the horrific sight before him.  
  
**********************************************  
  
By the second day of his investigation, Alastor Moody's own shock had worn off and he was beginning to think more clearly, more aurorly. More often than not, in murder cases, it was true the person who found the body was the guilty party. But it was also true that more often than not, it was a family member who was responsible. While the way Artemisia was murdered was absolutely inhuman, was it not the people nearest and dearest to us who could so inspire us to our greatest achievements and lowest degradations?  
  
When on that second day, Grindelwald again returned to wander the forest, Moody's suspicions grew. After all, while it was normal for a grieving husband to go to the scene of his wife's death, was it not also common for a murderer to return to the location of his despicable act?  
  
********************************************  
  
On the third day, Grindelwald again appeared. The only thing besides the complete and absolute lack of evidence that stopped Auror Moody from arresting him on the spot, was Moody's continued inability to locate any of the centaurs. He first wanted to exhaust the possibility that any of the forest dwellers had been witness to what had happened.  
  
*************************************  
  
On the fourth day, Grindelwald did not return.  
  
Moody found out that afternoon that the man had attempted to resign his post at the Ministry of Magic the day before. It was only after much persuading and many concessions that Grindelwald agreed to continue working for the Department of Mysteries. His stipulations included he be allowed to work from his home without Ministry supervision or interruption. After that day, Grindelwald never again left his estate. At least not until, years later when a team of aurors, hit wizards, and a Transfiguration Instructor came to visit him.  
  
Moody would have seen the resignation attempt as an admission of guilt by Grindelwald, were it not for a discussion with a centaur that morning. As soon as Moody had returned to the forest on the fourth day, he found an angry centaur waiting for him.  
  
Artemisia's death suddenly became very clear to the young auror when the centaur began to speak.  
  
"For many years now, we have endured your two-legged kind wandering our forests. It is not enough that despite our hospitality, your people have repeatedly culled our unicorn herds. This time your kind has gone too far. To drink the blood of a unicorn and leave them in the forest to die is worthy of a cursed existence, but to actually remove a unicorn from the forest is beyond recall. Henceforth, this forest is Forbidden to those who walk upon two legs. Until that which has been taken is returned to us, any two-legged creature venturing into this forest will perish by our wrath. Leave now."  
  
"Artemisia harmed one of the unicorns? Is that why you killed her that way?"  
  
The Herdmaster again spoke.  
  
"We Centaurs are star-gazers. Anthropomancy is not an art we practice. But for the one responsible for this act of treachery, we would willingly make exception."  
  
Moody left quickly after that. Suddenly, many things came together for him. The truly inhuman way Artemisia had been killed; the hoof marks on the ground all around her body; even the reason for her being in the forest.  
  
  
  
********************************  
  
Armando Dippet was the only one who found the explanation unreasonable. Artemisia had always been fond of wandering the forests and visiting the unicorns. He told the young auror as much.  
  
"Horrid as Artemisia always was, I find it hard to accept that she would harm a unicorn. The only time she ever seemed even near human was in the forest. If she was even capable of love, I would say the only things she ever loved were the unicorns."  
  
Armando Dippet found himself, however, to be the only voice of dissent. And so, the forest around the school was now Forbidden and the matter was considered closed. 


	17. Chapter 17

A/N Thank you, thank you to my wonderful Beta, Minerva Dumbledore1  
  
Thank you Mavidian, Redwoman06, LinZe, CEA, Laura Kay, Crookykanks, Minerva Lea, VoyICJ, and Dark Lulu for reviewing.  
  
Gyromancy is the practice of walking in circles till dizzy collapse and then interpreting where the person falls.  
  
Sideromancy is divination with a red hot iron!  
  
Spodomancy is divination with ashes  
  
Ceromancy is divination using wax and water  
  
Catoptromancy is divination with mirrors  
  
Ichthyomancy is divination using fish entrails  
  
Oenomancy is divination using wine  
  
Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody waited patiently in Grindelwald's study. It was the wizard's habit, no matter how important the visitors, to keep them waiting. A power game he liked to play, to demonstrate his own importance. Compared to the high level ministry officials and heads of old blood families who usually came to call, a Transfiguration Professor and a young auror were not very important at all. They could expect to wait some time for Grindelwald's presence, and so they had plenty of time to observe the room.  
  
Books lined all of one wall, leaving space only for the door out. Behind the wizard's desk, shelves upon shelves of prophecies were waiting to be picked up by the Department of Mysteries. An enormous aquarium stood five feet tall and ran the entire length of another wall. A door on the last wall led to Grindelwald's private rooms. A large portion of the room was clear of any furniture. The marks on the floor indicated that was the area Grindelwald used to practice his gyromancy. The series of irons by the fireplace were for his sideromancy. A long table held basins for ashes, wax, and wine for spodomancy, ceromancy, and oenomancy, respectively. Space was still left on the table for the mirrors used in catoptromancy. Despite the presence in the room of the large tank of fish, both men refused to speculate on the uses of the large carving knife with cutting board, also on the table.  
  
Tea service for three was set up on Grindelwald's desk. It was well known that Grindelwald always served tea to guests so he could read their leaves afterwards. Across from the desk, two chairs were empty as Dumbledore and Moody stood behind them. Grindelwald had not yet arrived, so the men had not yet been given leave to sit. Grindelwald's peculiarities were well enough known that neither man even considered seating themselves.  
  
Dumbledore commented after he noticed the extra tea cup and chair.  
  
"I see Grindelwald has foreseen me accompanying you here."  
  
The young auror fidgeted.  
  
"I'm not too fond of Seers in general, and Grindelwald can be a little hard to understand when he goes all out. I appreciate you coming. Merlin knows no one at the Ministry was willing to come."  
  
"I must admit, I am surprised Grindelwald is still so sought after these days. I would have assumed after Artemisia's death his Sight would have reverted back to its earlier…"  
  
Alastor shrugged unknowingly.  
  
"What does anyone really know of the way the old blood bonds work anymore?"  
  
"Indeed, you are correct, Alastor. I do believe it has been many centuries since anyone else has used them. I shudder to think of what my brother Aberforth's first three wives would have done to him had they not been able to simply get a decree from the Ministry of Magic nullifying their unions."  
  
"By the way, Artemisia's predictions about the other two professors at dinner that night, did they come true?"  
  
"Yes, as a matter of fact they did."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that. How did they die?"  
  
Moody found the twinkling of Dumbledore's eyes rather inappropriate before he answered.  
  
"Oh, they didn't. Professor Sigurd followed after Professor Brynhild to comfort her. As she was very distraught and the Astronomy tower is rather high up, he feared leaving her alone in her tower. One thing led to another… They were married two months later and Professor Brynhild resigned at the end of the year to prepare for impending motherhood. You might recall, Artemisia never actually said she would die, merely that her position would need to be filled for the following year."  
  
Moody frowned.  
  
"Somehow, that is not the way I interpreted her words."  
  
"Indeed, I am sure your interpretation was what Artemisia intended you to go away with."  
  
"Artemisia said Professor Sigurd would need to be replaced too?"  
  
"Yes, actually he applied and was accepted for a position at a French wizarding school. They wished to give the unpleasant memory of Artemisia's predictions some distance."  
  
Moody just shook his head at the way in which Artemisia had so deliberately attempted to pervert a happy future.  
  
When the door to Grindelwald's rooms opened, both men went quiet and turned expectantly. At first, it seemed no one was there. Then the tiniest grey and black kitten leapt onto Grindelwald's chair. From there, the kitten leaped to the desk and sat down.  
  
Moody broke the silence.  
  
"Psst, cat. I don't know if anyone told you, but around here it's best to wait until you are asked to be seated."  
  
Both men laughed, when the kitten gave Moody a disdainful look.  
  
"So sorry for keeping you waiting gentlemen. From the sounds of it, you have managed well in my absence."  
  
Grindelwald swept into the room, robes billowing menacingly. Moody sincerely wondered if the man charmed them to do that.  
  
He couldn't help grinning. Somehow, knowing the man owned a kitten, he didn't seem so imposing anymore.  
  
"I never would have pegged you as a cat person, Grindelwald."  
  
Grindelwald gave Moody a piercing look.  
  
" I did not chose for her to be a cat. That was her own doing."  
  
Moody sighed to himself. Now he remembered why he had asked the older wizard, who had stood up so well to Artemisia and Grindelwald at the dinner a few years ago, to accompany him to this meeting.   
  
Dumbledore, still looking at the kitten, addressed her owner.  
  
"The kitten is awfully young, Grindelwald. She should be with her mother."  
  
Grindelwald stroked the kitten lovingly a few times before responding in a deadened tone.  
  
"The mother was not fit. She had to be destroyed."  
  
"What is the kitten's name?"  
  
"That does not concern you, Dumbledore. Did you come here to discuss my kitten or was there more to this visit?"  
  
As the official Ministry representative, it was Moody's duty to respond.  
  
"The new Minister of Magic wishes a consultation with you."  
  
Oh yes, Charles was it?"  
  
Moody looked awkward. "No, actually. The newer Minister of Magic, Augustus."  
  
"Hmm. We do seem to be going through Ministers rather quickly these days. What is this five in two years?"  
  
"Six actually." Corrected Dumbledore.  
  
"Really? My, my. So many, who can keep count?" Grindelwald smiled. "I enjoyed Asgard the most. Which was your favorite?"  
  
Moody started again. "Yes, well, given the recent series of assassinations, Augustus wishes a consultation with you. He thought you might be able to offer some insight into recent events or at least, give some suggestions on how he could avoid a similar fate."  
  
"Well, I shall certainly do all that I can to help. If the Minister would care to stop by tomorrow, I can offer him a reading then."  
  
"The Minister was actually hoping you could come to his offices. He is a rather busy man these days."  
  
Grindelwald finally motioned for the others to be seated. Moving over to the aquarium, he opened the flap on the top and dropped in food from a nearby canister. Facing them again, he spoke.  
  
"I am afraid that will not work. I too am a busy man. If he wishes a reading, he will need to come here."  
  
Moody looked extremely uncomfortable. How exactly to explain that since his unwanted appointment four days ago, Augustus had barricaded himself in his office and refused food or drink? Given how quickly Ministers were dying and the fact that no one was willing to run anymore, elections for the position hadn't been held in almost a year. The deaths of his six predecessors were still nowhere near being solved. In fact, the aurors investigating still had no idea how they had been poisoned. The last three had been constantly surrounded by aurors, day and night. Every bit of food and drink they received was taste tested by another first.  
  
That was a precaution that many of the other poisoning victims had never been given. All of the wizarding world was in chaos at the moment. In the past two years, scores of people had been poisoned from all walks of life. Ministry workers, delivery men, wizarding aristocracy, healers, dressmakers; the victims seemed to have no real connection to each other. They all hadn't eaten at the same restaurant, or drunk the same kind of beverage. Even the kinds of poisons used and their effects had differed, some fast reacting, others slow to take effect, some painless, others excruciating. With no pattern to be discerned, all the restaurants and pubs in Wizarding England had closed down from lack of business. People wouldn't even sit down with a neighbor for a cup of tea.  
  
Moody looked to Dumbledore for help, but the other man's attention was still on the kitten.  
  
"Sir, for security reasons, the Minister can not be traveling."  
  
Grindelwald returned to his chair and poured out tea.  
  
"Mr. Moody, you of all people should know that since my wife's death, I no longer leave the estate."  
  
Moody shuddered involuntarily at the mention of Artemisia's murder. He still had nightmares about the woman's violent death over seven years ago at the hands of the centaurs. Not that the woman hadn't deserved punishment for harming a unicorn, but still, the way she had been dismembered… Moody took a sip of his tea to settle his stomach.  
  
Turning to Dumbledore, he saw the older wizard trying to hide a smile. Wondering what exactly the man could find so amusing at a time like this, Moody followed his gaze.  
  
Unbeknownst to Grindelwald, his kitten had managed to get on top of the aquarium. Grindelwald had never closed the flap, so the kitten was sitting on the edge, swatting at the fish below. As Moody watched, the kitten made contact with one of the slower fish and losing her balance, tumbled into the water.  
  
"Grindelwald-" Dumbledore began.  
  
Grindelwald repeated. "If the Minister wishes a reading, he will have to come-"  
  
"It's your kitten." Dumbledore interrupted.  
  
Grindelwald looked at the aquarium in awe and horror. The small kitten had her fish, but was struggling to get out of the water. The distance between the water and the ledge was too great and the kitten too young to be a good swimmer.  
  
Seeing Grindelwald was too mesmerized to do anything, Dumbledore went over to the tank. The hard tone of Grindelwald's voice stopped him.  
  
"Do not intervene."  
  
Grindelwald crossed over to the tank and put his hand against the glass, near the drowning kitten. His voice was gentle now.  
  
"If she dies now, by her own doing, will none of it come to pass? Can it be? Does it really end like this? If she dies now, will it all end with her?"  
  
Dumbledore reached into the tank. Ignoring the water soaking him to the elbow, he plucked the kitten out. Crossing back to the desk, he set the sputtering kitten down. He pulled out his wand and conjured a towel to dry the kitten, but the kitten saved him the effort by shaking her fur dry, and everything else in the room wet.  
  
Dumbledore smiled and stroked the kitten. "Yes, I guess that works too."  
  
Moody took another polite sip of his tea, but almost dropped the cup at the change in the taste. He wanted to ask Grindelwald about it, but stopped at the look on Grindelwald's face.  
  
"You have no idea what you have done! You can not even begin to comprehend the consequences of your actions!"  
  
Dumbledore looked up in alarm at the other man.  
  
"Grindelwald, calm yourself."  
  
"Leave her alone! Stop touching her!"  
  
Dumbledore stopped stroking the kitten and just stared at the man before him. The kitten looked up, displeased at the interruption in affection, but soon contented herself by picking at the fish she had refused to let go of in the aquarium.  
  
"Leave now! Leave now and never come back!" Grindelwald was in an absolute panic. "No, wait. Come back tomorrow. Yes, come back tomorrow - both of you. That is very important."  
  
Grindelwald nodded to himself.   
  
"Grindelwald, are you quite alright?"  
  
Dumbledore's concern was obvious, but he relaxed when Grindelwald picked up the kitten and cradled her in his arms. The tiny creature seemed rather aggravated to have her little feast interrupted, but stopped struggling once he began to stroke her fur. Grindelwald walked to the door of his private rooms, whispering reassuringly to the kitten the whole time.  
  
The two remaining men stared after him in wonder. Soon a house elf appeared to show them out of the labyrinth like house. Before they left from the other door, Moody paused.  
  
"You know, I think he finally has surpassed Artemisia in something. Shame it had to be madness. Do you know, he has unicorn water in his fish tank?"  
  
The older wizard waved his hand dismissively. "Grindelwald has always been all flash and no substance."  
  
********************************  
  
The next day, the two did return as requested. Again they were left alone in the study by a house elf. The room had changed dramatically. The aquarium that had filled an entire wall the day before was now replaced by a large standing mirror, turned to face the wall.  
  
Moody found another peculiarity to comment on.  
  
"We must have been earlier than expected or perhaps the house elves are running late. Tea has not yet been set up."  
  
As if on cue, a very frightened house elf entered the room with tea service for three people. She seemed shocked that people were already in the room. When Dumbledore smiled at her reassuringly, she covered her eyes and started to sob. Only Moody's quick auror reflexes stopped the tray from hitting the ground. After deliberately running into the closed door several times, she opened it and ran out of the room.  
  
"You don't think whatever Grindelwald has is contagious, do you?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed, ignoring the question.  
  
"It never ceases to amaze me how poorly some wizards treat their house elves. Mark my words, one day house elves will have had enough and…"  
  
He brightened considerably when the door opened and in walked the little kitten from yesterday. The kitten didn't seem to notice them at first. She was too occupied trying to figure out where all the fish went.  
  
"So back at the Ministry yesterday, I told my superiors that maybe Grindelwald wasn't the best Seer to be trying to consult, given his apparent…deterioration. Turns out the reason I was specifically sent to Grindelwald is that he warned the third and fourth Ministers. Bones and Malfoy took it as the usual Seer mumbo jumbo, but Augustus was Senior Undersecretary to both. He thinks with the help of Grindelwald's visions, he can..."  
  
Moody trailed off as the kitten captured his attention.  
  
"What the bloody hell is wrong with that cat?"  
  
His companion couldn't help but chuckle. Unable to find the aquarium, the kitten had begun a thorough search of the rest of the room. The teapot had gained the favor of her attentions. The house elf, in her haste, never put the top on the teapot. The little kitten kept putting her paw inside the pot, swatting for fish. When she put her whole head in the pot and brought it back out with a tea bag, even Moody laughed.  
  
"How the hell can he read our tea leaves if he uses tea bags?"  
  
Dumbledore just laughed and took the tea bag from the angry kitten. He popped it back into the pot and set the top on it. With a quick wave of his wand, the small mess was gone. The kitten scowled and rewarded him by scratching his hand.  
  
"Sorry my dear, but after yesterday, I think it would be best if you kept a low profile."  
  
Moody shook his head.  
  
"I am not drinking that tea now."  
  
The kitten, unable to find anything else interesting to do, jumped off of the desk and went to the gyromancy circle.  
  
Now, Dumbledore scowled at Moody.  
  
"You will drink it and you will like it or at least pretend you do. I am more than a little apprehensive about leaving a defenseless creature like that with Grindelwald after yesterday's display. I would greatly prefer not to give him cause to be angry with her."  
  
Moody snorted, but smiled.  
  
"Might want to clean the blood off of your hand, before you call that thing defenseless."  
  
Grindelwald entered the room with his usual flourish, seemingly recovered from yesterday's ordeal.  
  
"Please, gentlemen, be seated. Have some tea."  
  
As Grindelwald poured out two cups and set them before his visitors, Moody couldn't help but laugh at the kitten, chasing her tail in the gyromancy circle.  
  
"Looks like you have another Visionary in the family, Grindelwald."  
  
Grindelwald was not impressed. He brought the kitten back to his desk, before responding.  
  
"She is merely imitating what she has seen me do. Her abilities lie elsewhere."  
  
Moody sighed to himself. Yes, Grindelwald certainly did seem back to his old self.  
  
Both men took a tea cup. Dumbledore took a deep drink from his cup. Moody just held his until Dumbledore caught his eye. With a look at the kitten, now cleaning herself on the desk, he took a tentative sip. Apparently, the kitten hadn't yet cleaned off all of the unicorn water from yesterday's mishap.  
  
"Good. Drink up."  
  
After another sip, Moody began to speak.  
  
"Sir, about coming with me to the Ministry-"  
  
"Ah, Mr. Moody, you really need not concern yourself with such matters any longer."  
  
"Well, sir, I'm afraid my employers feel a little differently."  
  
Grindelwald waved his hand dismissively.  
  
"Your employer's concerns are no longer your own. In fact, quite shortly, you will have no concerns at all. You see Mr. Moody, I have had a vision about you and Professor Dumbledore. I'm afraid the news is not good."  
  
Moody shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Dumbledore raised a hand to his mouth. Seeing the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes and the hand attempting to hide a smile, Moody felt a little better. Grindelwald mistook the gesture, as Dumbledore had hoped.  
  
"Yes, Dumbledore. I'm sure the news will be most upsetting to hear. I know I was quite disturbed to See it. If you would be so kind as to finish your tea and hand me your cup, I will elaborate."  
  
After exchanging an amused look, both men drank the remainder of their tea. Grindelwald picked up both cups.  
  
"I think your house elf used tea bags by mistake. There aren't any leaves left in the cup." Said Moody.  
  
"Clearly, you lack the Inner Eye, Mr. Moody. My elf made the tea exactly to my specifications. I have discovered one does not need to have leaves to see the future. Ah, here I see the falcon - you have a deadly enemy. Oh, and here is the Grim. So unfortunate."  
  
Grindelwald's voice was tinged with fake disappointment.  
  
Having often sat near the Hogwarts Divination instructor during meals, Moody knew Dumbledore was accustomed to daily death visions and was rather unimpressed.  
  
"Grindelwald, Moody was asked to come here and bring you to Minister Augustus for a consultation. It is the Minister who wishes a reading, not us. If you are unwilling to come, please let us dispense with the visions and depart."  
  
Grindelwald gave an exaggerated sigh. "You disappoint me, Professor Dumbledore. Such skepticism, but not for much longer. I am greatly saddened to reveal, you are both about to die a most painful and horrible death."  
  
Now it was Dumbledore's turn to sigh.  
  
"Grindelwald, really I have had enough, thank you. Would you be so kind as to call someone to escort us out?"  
  
Grindelwald shook his head.  
  
"Then how much longer do we have to endure this? I would certainly call this horrible, bordering on painful, but when do we get to the dead?"  
  
Moody fought a smile at the usually calm, older man's loss of temper.  
  
Grindelwald smiled wickedly. He removed a watch from his pocket and checked the time.  
  
"How about, right…now?"  
  
He looked expectantly at the two men across from him. After a few minutes of silence, when a crestfallen look appeared on the other man's face, Moody couldn't help letting a small laugh escape at the theatrics. Say what you would about Grindelwald's abilities as a Seer, he put on a good show. All the color left Grindelwald's face. He looked around the room wildly. His gaze settled on the little kitten. His face went red.  
  
"You did this! How dare you! After all I have done for you!"  
  
Grindelwald began bellowing at the kitten. The kitten seemed to have heard all this before, because she wasn't at all startled. She simply stretched and watched Grindelwald with an unmistakably bored expression.  
  
"Why must you constantly thwart my every effort to help you?"  
  
After throwing the entire tea set against the wall, barely missing the mirror, Grindelwald shouted for his elf.  
  
"Dibby! Get rid of this mess!"  
  
The elf that came running into the room was the same elf that had delivered the tea. She entered the room still sobbing. Seeing the two men standing, she brightened visibly.  
  
"Get them out of here now!"  
  
"Yes, Master!" squealed the elf in delight as she led Dumbledore and Moody out of the office.  
  
Before they reached the final door, Dumbledore attempted a conversation with the elf.  
  
"So, Dibby is your name. That is a very nice name."  
  
The elf blushed.  
  
"Thank you, sir. It was my mother's name before me and her father's before her."  
  
"You were all named Dibby?" asked Moody. "Doesn't that get confusing?"  
  
"Not at all, sir. We each change one letter."  
  
"Oh, how silly of me." Said Moody, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"Sirs are very nice. Dibby is very happy yous are leaving now."  
  
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Thank you, Dibby." Keeping his voice neutral, he asked, "Speaking of names, what is Grindelwald's cat's name?"  
  
"Cat, sir? Master doesn't have a cat. Master doesn't like cats, sir."  
  
"Who does the little gray and black kitten belong to then?"  
  
"That's not Master's cat, sir. That's Master's daught-"  
  
The house elf's eyes widened as she realized what she had started to say. The house elf began to whimper and bend her fingers backwards. Moody and Dumbledore's eyes widened as well.  
  
"Dibby, how old is Master's daughter?"  
  
"Not supposed to talk about her, sir. Please, sir."  
  
"Dibby, where is the girl's mother?"  
  
"It was the devil woman, sir. But Master had her destroyed."  
  
Suddenly, the elf began to slam herself into the walls of the corridor. Moody tried to grab hold of her, but she kept pinging off of the walls. When he looked to Dumbledore for help, Dumbledore found his voice again.  
  
"Dibby, your Master asked you to show us out. You must stop punishing yourself and show us out."  
  
As soon as they were outside, Dumbledore turned to Moody.  
  
"Moody, who else but a Seer claiming to want to read tea leaves could get people to drink something he offered to them given the hysteria people are in these days? You said Grindelwald gave readings for two of the late Ministers. How sure are you it was just two? How many other Ministry workers has he given readings for? You know what this means, don't you?"  
  
Moody nodded. "I am never drinking from anything but my flask again."  
  
Seeing Dumbledore's disappointed look he added, "We must go to the Ministry at once." 


	18. Chapter 18

A/N My beta is better than anyone else's beta! Big hugs for Maria, aka Minerva Dumbledore1  
  
Static-Filled Star Whoo! A new reviewer!  
  
Linze and Minerva Lea I am glad you are enjoying the story and some of the earlier parts are making more sense now.  
  
Mavidian I assure you, the kitten gets fed plenty. Hunting and curiosity are natural cat instincts so she still does it regardless.  
  
As for who these memories belong to…  
  
Dumbledore gave his pensive to Harry to look into, but Dumbledore remained outside of the pensive remembering those same memories but in fuller detail than what he showed Harry. You, the reader, are seeing Dumbledore's fuller versions, but not all of the memories he is remembering are his own, in fact so far I think none of the memories I have shown you have been Dumbledore's.  
  
"Dumbledore filled his Pensive with all the memories he believed to be relevant. That not all the memories were his own was, he believed a necessity if he wanted to make Harry fully understand why certain events had occurred and indeed were still occurring. Through the years, in his own attempts to better understand things that had come to pass, Albus Dumbledore had harvested the memories of a few others."-Chapter 15 first paragraph.  
  
I'm betting none of that made any sense. Anyways the point is a lot of the story is going to be told from the perspective of different narrators based usually on who has the most relevant perspective or who is/was available/willing to share memories with Albus Dumbledore.  
  
Sometimes your narrator's identity isn't stated straight out, but little hints or clues are given to help you identify them. A fun little challenge, if you will.  
  
Anyways, the next two chapters after this have already been typed and betaed. They are sitting on my hard drive all ready to be uploaded, but are being held ransom for more feedback!  
  
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Moody cursed himself for his own nearsightedness. Now the reason why Grindelwald had been so unsurprised at the news of his wife's murder was clear. Moody had assumed it was the centaurs because of the sheer inhumanity of the act. Now, he realized, Grindelwald had mutilated his wife's body so extensively to hide the fact that she was pregnant. They had only been married three months. Even if the pregnancy started before that, it couldn't have been more than four or five months along. Given the stylish robes Artemisia wore, someone would have noticed it if it had progressed any further.  
  
The three days Grindelwald had spent wandering the forest, he must have been seeking a live unicorn to bring home with him for a constant source of unicorn blood. Not even the most gifted of Healers could have kept an infant that premature alive. That was what the centaur had been referring to.  
  
It also at least helped explain the queerness of Grindelwald having unicorn water in his fish tank. Unicorn water, water from a lake or a pond purified by contact with a unicorn's horn when a unicorn leaned down to drink from it, was often used to neutralize poisons. If Grindelwald was poisoning people by putting poison in the teapot before pouring it into cups, he could use a bit of unicorn water in his own cup to neutralize the poison's effects.  
  
If the house elf had put poison in the teapot at Grindelwald's instruction, it was only by pure luck that the little kitten had managed to transfer some of the unicorn water into the teapot to neutralize the poison.   
  
Dumbledore was right, who else but a Seer claiming to want to read tea leaves could get people to knowingly accept any form of food or beverage in these times? Of course, when people came for readings they could not have taste testers sample their tea, it would ruin the leaves for predictions.  
  
It took considerable time to convince the Minister of Magic to send in a party of aurors to investigate. That the conversation took place shouted through a locked keyhole didn't speed matters along.  
  
It took even longer for the two men to convince the Minister of Magic of the necessity of sending in a large force. If Grindelwald still had his former Seer capabilities, and foresaw them coming, it might prove very difficult to subdue him.  
  
Finally a group of over forty aurors, hit wizards, and Professor Dumbledore, gathered on the edge of the Grindelwald estate and took down the wards protecting it. They apparated into Grindelwald's study with wands at the ready.  
  
Before even the hit wizards with their lightening quick reflexes could respond, a voice called out.  
  
"-mus!"  
  
Grindelwald had been so sure of their arrival, he hadn't even bothered to wait for them to apparate into the room before starting the Expelliarmus spell to disarm them.  
  
Only a second later, the whole party was immobilized.  
  
Grindelwald never even bothered to stand when he cast the spells. It was only once he had all the wands that he rose. After crossing to the lit fireplace, he smiled as he fed them to the fire a few at a time. Even Alastor Moody had to admit, the changes in color when the flames reached the various cores would have been pleasant to view under other circumstances.  
  
"You know what your problem is Mr. Moody? You don't know when to stop. You just can't leave well enough alone. If you aren't going to have what you want, you will make bloody sure no one else will either. You are as bad as Artemisia in that way."  
  
Even if he could reply, Moody didn't know what to say in response. It was only when Albus Dumbledore did speak, that Moody realized he could speak. Still, he didn't really have a response for Grindelwald.  
  
"Grindelwald, what can you hope to accomplish by this? Even if you kill us all, more will come."  
  
Grindelwald was furious.  
  
"Don't you think I know that? That's just it! No matter what I do, you people just keep coming. No matter how many of you I kill, another one always takes their place."  
  
Moody frowned since apparently his lips weren't immobilized like the rest of his body. Suddenly, he wished they had thought to bring Armando Dippet, a centaur, someone, anyone who spoke Seer-talk.  
  
Grindelwald approached the stunned man closest to him and released him from the almost full body bind.  
  
"Show me your hand."  
  
The auror looked at him for a minute before refusing.  
  
With a sigh, Grindelwald uttered a severing charm. After reading the man's palm, Grindelwald looked at the man profusely bleeding on his floor before commenting dryly.  
  
"Shame really. If you had done as I asked, I would have let you go. You aren't involved in any of this. You were supposed to die naturally in your sleep long before it happened."  
  
With a wave of his wand, Grindelwald banished both the auror, the hand, and the stains on the carpet. Unsure if it was a trick or not, the next auror Grindelwald made the same request of did comply.  
  
Looking at the palm, Grindelwald spoke in outrage before performing the Killing curse .  
  
"One of five stunning spells straight to the chest at her age!"  
  
"Read my palm next!" Moody called out as that auror too was banished.  
  
It wasn't because of a death wish that he made the request, it was an old auror trick. Grindelwald had managed to disarm him along with the others, but Moody carried a second wand for such occasions. If he could just get Grindelwald to release him from the body bind, he could take out his second wand and end it all now.  
  
"With pleasure, Mr. Moody."  
  
Grindelwald raised his wand to utter the counter curse, but paused.  
  
"But first, you don't mind if I take your second wand. Do you?"  
  
Grindelwald took the second wand and laughed as he threw it onto his desk. Again, he raised his wand to utter the counter curse, but paused. This time, he stopped as a little girl in a white cotton nightdress entered the room. Besides the raven hair, the first thing Moody noticed was how unnaturally pale she looked. But then, he guessed if no one was supposed to know she existed, she probably didn't get out to the park much.  
  
Rubbing her gray eyes, the girl complained.  
  
"Da, all the noise is keeping me awake."  
  
Noticing all the people for the first time, she went over to Grindelwald. Moody watched the man who had just viciously murdered two people tenderly lift her up. Wrapping her arms around her father's neck, the little girl questioned him.  
  
"I am sorry, Da. I know I am never to be in your study like this when you have people visiting, but you forgot to tell me you were going to have more people visiting today."  
  
Grindelwald kissed the top of the girl's head.  
  
"Go back to sleep, Minerva."  
  
The girl tried to burrow under his neck instead.  
  
"I want to stay with you."  
  
It was one of the hit wizards who managed to interrupt the moment and bring back Grindelwald's anger.  
  
"Can she do anything special?"  
  
Grindelwald glared at the man.  
  
"Most definitely."  
  
Turning back to the little girl in his arms, Grindelwald spoke.  
  
"Show him what you can do."  
  
The little girl began to squirm uncomfortably in her father's arms.  
  
"Now, now. None of that. Go get your wand and show him what I taught you."  
  
When his daughter still did not comply, Grindelwald carried her over to his desk. Opening a drawer, he took out a small wand. When he tried to hand it to the girl, she refused to take it. It looked like she had given up trying to squirm out of his grasp and was now trying to climb over him.  
  
"Be a good little girl and stop squirming. If you are a good little girl and do as I ask, I will get you anything your heart desires."  
  
Halfway over Grindelwald's shoulder, the little girl paused in her struggling. She was staring at something, but Moody wasn't sure what.  
  
"Promise?"  
  
"By the Wizard's code."  
  
Reluctantly, the little girl took the wand.  
  
"Good, now just like we practiced on Dibby."  
  
The girl was still reluctant.  
  
"Do I have to?"  
  
When her father nodded, she began. Never taking her eyes off of what ever it was that had captured her attention before, the little girl began to cast a series of curses and counter curses on the hit wizard that had inquired about her. Moody found it obscene that a girl not more than seven knew more curses and hexes than he did.  
  
When Grindelwald had finally had enough, he told the little girl she could stop. The hit wizard was too traumatized when she was through to answer Grindelwald's question.  
  
"Is that special enough for you?"  
  
The little girl wandered through the statue-like people to the mirror facing the wall. When Grindelwald spoke, her head reappeared from around the side of it.  
  
"Go tell Dibby I said you could have a chocolate frog and then off to bed with you again."  
  
"My heart's desire is different now."  
  
For the first time that evening, Grindelwald looked surprised.  
  
"What does the mirror show now?"  
  
The little girl crossed back through the crowd to her father and whispered in his ear.  
  
"You are the oddest little creature I have ever met. Do you know that? But I gave my word and a wizard always keeps his word."  
  
The girl did not seem at all phased by her father's response. Instead, she ran from the room as quickly as her bare feet could carry her. Only a moment later she reappeared carrying a hairbrush.  
  
Grindelwald chuckled as he summoned a silver haired man to his desk. Moody tried to remember what the older auror's name was. Laurie? Laurence? Laki? Lucky? Grindelwald removed the binding curse long enough to allow the man to sit down in a chair.  
  
The little girl quickly removed the long silver hair from its ponytail. The girl began to brush out the long locks.  
  
"You have very beautiful hair. Do you know that?"  
  
The auror looked very confused, he didn't answer.  
  
When the young girl put a hand on the auror's neck and lifted up all his hair with her other hand, he gave a gasp.  
  
"Would you like a braid or maybe a French twist? I am very good at twists, Dippy showed me how to do it once. But I am better at braids. We have to make the hair grown on Dippy. Turn your head a little."  
  
Grindelwald altered his spell to allow a bit of motion to the man's neck. As soon as he did, the man tried to pull away from her touch. Moody could see horrid blisters appearing on the man's flesh where the little girl was touching him. The little girl reprimanded him in a poor imitation of Grindelwald's voice.  
  
"Now, now. None of that. Stop your squirming."  
  
As she fixed the man's hair into a braid, she continued reprimanding him.  
  
"Be good and stop squirming. If you are good and do as I ask, I will get you anything your heart desires. I promise by the Wizard's Code"  
  
When the hair was contained again in something barely passing for a braid, the little girl gave a satisfied nod.  
  
"Now you can go look into the mirror. Tell me what ever your heart desires and I will get it for you."  
  
Moody could see the man was in far too much pain to move even if he hadn't been trapped by a hex. Moody himself had felt something almost like a burning when the girl had brushed against him on her way to the mirror. Exactly what kind of protective charms or curses were on this child?  
  
"Go on, go look and the mirror will tell you what your heart's desire is."  
  
It was Albus Dumbledore who answered for the silver haired auror.  
  
"He doesn't need to look into the mirror. I can tell you his heart's desire. His heart's desire is to have your father's wand and to have Mr. Moody's wand returned to him."  
  
Grindelwald picked up Moody's second wand and gave a chuckle. When the little girl approached and extended her hand for his wand, he gave her his wand and kissed the top of her head.  
  
"You do thwart me at every opportunity. But a promise is a promise and I will never make you break your word. Give him my wand and I will return Mr. Moody's to him. Then off to bed, just the way you are supposed to be when I have visitors."  
  
Before the girl had a chance to turn over the wand, Grindelwald used Moody's second wand to undo all the body binds.   
  
"I will come quietly with you, but this isn't anything she needs to see."  
  
Moody frowned suspecting a trick as he caught his wand. This man killed for no seeming reason, what did the honor of the Wizard's Code mean to him?  
  
"How do we know it isn't a ruse?"  
  
"Because I know if I struggle you will gladly kill me and I will be of far too great a use in the future to die now. Mr. Dumbledore defeats me, but he isn't the one who kills me."  
  
"The Ministry will take care of that, not to worry."  
  
Grindelwald smiled.  
  
"No, the Ministry will not kill me."  
  
It didn't really matter now. The door had already closed behind the little girl. He summoned bindings around Grindelwald, but still he couldn't help asking.  
  
"Who kills you?"  
  
"You know who."  
  
"No, I don't." Merlin, he hated Seers. "Who?"  
  
Grindelwald just laughed.  
  
  
  
Dumbledore and several of the aurors went through the door the little girl had just passed through. They searched the series of rooms past it. A room was found with clothes, blocks, and books for a little girl, but no little girl was in it. All they found on the little girl's bed was her little gray and black kitten curled up on the pillow. Even after a full search of the estate, no little girl was found.  
  
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Armando Dippet entered the cell in Azkaban. When word of Grindelwald's prediction that he would not be executed because he would be of, "Far too great a use in the future," got out, quite an uproar had gone up in the Wizarding community. Eventually, Grindelwald's prediction had indeed proven true. The Dementors were to perform the Kiss on Grindelwald today and as such he was allowed visitors.   
  
He didn't say anything, merely waited for the younger man to speak. When it became clear that wasn't going to happen, he began.  
  
"Bloody Jupiter, tell me where she is."  
  
When the younger man just stared at him impassively, Armando came to a realization.  
  
"You don't know where she is, do you?"  
  
Grindelwald gave a small smile.  
  
"It's gone then? The Sight you received from Artemisia."  
  
Grindelwald nodded.  
  
"I lost it as soon as Artemisia died."  
  
Dippet frowned.  
  
"Then how have you been making your predictions all these years? The girl, Minerva? She is a Seer?"  
  
He noticed Grindelwald made a point of looking him directly in the eyes before answering.  
  
'No, she isn't. The predictions were my own."  
  
"Forgive my bluntness, Grindelwald, but your Visions were never that clear before."  
  
"Why do you think I decided to kill Minister Asgard?"  
  
Without waiting for a response to his question, Grindelwald went on speaking.  
  
"As Asgard said, some of the abilities the line is said to carry are considerably more valuable than Seers."  
  
It took Dippet only a moment to figure out the meaning of the other man's words.  
  
"A foci then?"  
  
Grindelwald nodded.  
  
Dippet sighed. He knew this would complicate matters considerably. A foci was just what the word said, a focus, a point where rays of energy came together, became concentrated, clear, distinct, and from which they spread. A foci could take the powers and energies of another and before returning them, so concentrate, so direct them as to make them magnified far beyond what they normally would be. Valuable indeed.  
  
"Did you ever see the 'why'?"  
  
Grindelwald shook his head.  
  
"What was your 'why'?"  
  
Grindelwald grimaced.  
  
"Artemisia could never allow another to be happy. Not even her own child, especially not her own child. I thought maybe that was the 'why'. Something or things Artemisia would do to the child. In the beginning, my intention was to end it all before it began."  
  
"You killed her and took the child?"  
  
Grindelwald looked away from him.  
  
"No, I left the child, I left my own daughter in the forest to die next to her mother. Not three months conceived and when I removed her from her mother, she breathed. It was a horrid noise, a death rattle. I knew she couldn't keep it up for long, but I couldn't bare to hear it, to know what I was doing. I left her."  
  
When Grindelwald fixed him with a penetrating look before continuing, he understood the second meaning to the man's next words.  
  
"You have no idea how tiny she was. Really, no bigger than the kitten they found."  
  
Armando frowned before bringing the conversation back a moment.  
  
"I didn't See her there. Moody didn't find her there."  
  
"No, someone or something moved her. That's what I was doing in the forest, I was looking to see what had become of her."  
  
"You lacked the Sight, so it took you three days to find her?"  
  
Grindelwald shook his head.  
  
"I thought some kind of animal had carried her off to… I had to know, so I searched the forest. I found her that first day; she had been sheltered in some bushes. Still I left her there. I came back the next day again to see and she was still alive. Someone must have been caring for her. I don't know a centaur, perhaps? The third day, I could stand it no longer, I took her home with me."  
  
"And you brought a unicorn with you to feed her blood to keep her alive?"  
  
Grindelwald shook his head again.  
  
"No, don't you understand? All this was to spare her from what we saw her do. Never would I condemn her to a cursed existence, to a half-life. Artemisia must have done it somehow, before I arrived."  
  
Dippet couldn't help but frown. It wasn't that he didn't believe Grindelwald, the man had no reason to lie now, and yet even now he could not reconcile himself to Artemisia slaying a unicorn. Still the facts did not add up.  
  
"That was the 'why' for Artemisia, why all the others?"  
  
"I never did answer the question Artemisia asked at dinner that night. I didn't see a point, my opinion was different than Artemisia's and you of all people know one can never win an argument with Artemisia. It simply wasn't allowed. At the time, I didn't believe the future was set. I agreed with you, it was something malleable, changeable by our actions.  
  
I tried to change Minerva's future. At first, I tried to show her a different way. Never by her actions with me did she ever seem capable of the acts of desolation we witnessed. She was sweet and loving, not wretched like Artemisia. In fact, as Mr. Moody and Mr. Dumbledore can assure you, she always did her utmost to thwart my every malevolent act. But never would the Vision of the future change.  
  
Finally, I tried to eliminate all the people I came across who would affect her life negatively, who would cause her some harm or pain. I thought if I could do that than maybe she would never feel the need to do those horrid things. Easier said than done though, I am afraid. Every time I would do away with one, another came to take the part and still the Vision of the future was unaltered."  
  
Armando could not help but pity the man before him.  
  
"Jupiter, we are Seers, destined always to Watch, to Know, to speak out against perhaps, but never can we actively intervene."  
  
He knew as the other man continued speaking that his words spoken years too late, went unheeded.  
  
"No, my opinion has changed. I see the Future differently now. I believe some things are set, immovable, inevitable. No matter what alterations are made around them, some things must still come to pass. Like dropping a pebble into the sea, it causes ripples that impinge on every drop of water in the sea, but in time it all returns to the way it was before."  
  
"Is that why you taught her all those spells? Where in heavens did you learn them?"  
  
"I Saw her use them. I could not, would not again leave her defenseless to her Fate. I taught her every spell I ever Saw her have need of."  
  
Armando warily shook his head.  
  
"Even her name, Minerva, Jupiter's favorite child, born of no mother. The ferocious and merciless war wager. Carrier of his most devastating weapon, indeed."  
  
Grindelwald sighed.  
  
"You forget Armando, there are other interpretations to the name; wisdom, reason. And she carried not only Jupiter's thunderbolt, but his aegis and buckler as well, items of auspices, protection.  
  
After a moment, Grindelwald almost inaudibly added a last thought.  
  
"Armando, if you find her as she is now, leave her be. She is young. If she hasn't already, she will begin to forget things. Maybe this is the answer, after all; what harm can she do this way?"  
  
After a pensive silence, Dippet spoke.  
  
"The others are here, waiting. Did you want to see them before…?"  
  
  
  
"Artemisia made predictions that night for everyone at the dinner. Brynhild and Sigurd heard theirs at the dinner and she showed me mine after. Did you bring the orbs?"  
  
Dippet nodded.  
  
"Yes, Artemisia never put the enchantment on the orbs that prevents anyone but the recipient from touching them. Minister Asgard is dead, but Moody and Dumbledore are here. I will bring them in and we can listen to them."  
  
Since Minister Asgard was no longer available to break his own orb, Dippet did it for him. It was unsettling to say the least, to again hear Artemisia's cruel tone.  
  
"Beware, treachery awaits you from the cup of one of your dinner companions."  
  
"Useful perhaps had it been delivered in a more timely manner," stated Dippet ruefully before breaking his own orb.  
  
"You will not live to see the day all your work will come to naught, but unrest assured, the day will come."  
  
Dumbledore took the orb Dippet extended to him. Dippet knew the auburn haired man had only made the journey to Azkaban in hopes that Grindelwald would offer assistance in locating the missing young girl. He also knew that at least for the moment, he had no intentions of sharing the information he had received from Grindelwald.  
  
Artemisia's voice rose from the broken orb as it shattered.  
  
"Kill the girl, Minerva, while she is still young. If you do not, she will one day have the power to destroy you. Before it is all done, you will kneel before her begging for life. If your plea is answered, you can expect to spend the remainder of your life in bondage and servitude to her and her line. She will have dominion over all that you hold dear."  
  
Dumbledore merely raised an eyebrow at this pronouncement. Moody was the first to speak.  
  
"So that one is mine?"  
  
Dippet shook his head.  
  
"No, it is marked for her daughter."  
  
He watched the young auror frown.  
  
"You brought the orbs, so we know they aren't cursed yet to only be opened by their intended recipient?"  
  
He nodded to the auror who was slowly becoming not so young.  
  
"It might contain something to help us find her."  
  
Moody took the orb and smashed it.  
  
"You shall have two offspring. The first shall be havoc and ruin. Bringing chaos and destruction to all he touches. In the second can be redemption. If he survives infancy, he will be destined for all his existence to reversing the devastation the first has wrought."  
  
Moody's disappointment that the orb was not more useful was clear in his face.  
  
"Well, it was worth a try. Where is my orb?"  
  
Again, it was Dippet who answered.  
  
"That was the last orb I found."  
  
Moody stared back and forth between Dippet and Grindelwald.  
  
"You said she had a prediction for each of the people at the dinner."  
  
Grindelwald gave his last smile.  
  
"She didn't think you were important enough to bother with. Personally, I think you are beneath contempt, but would you like some of my advice for the future?"  
  
Moody looked at Grindelwald expectantly. Contempt was unmistakable in the older man's voice.  
  
"If you want to get everything you so richly deserve in life, make certain you look under the bed."  
  
Grindelwald's final prediction for Alastor Moody were the last words he spoke before his visitors were sent away and the Dementors performed their task.  
  
"Also, you will find your later years far more enjoyable, if you buy a larger trunk." 


	19. chapter 19

A/N Wergild is 'man price.' Part of the Old English code of kinship, traditionally each rank of society was evaluated at a definite monetary value. The price had to be paid to a dead man's kinsmen by the killer wishing to avoid vengeance. Money wasn't really the point as much as the proof that the kinsmen had found a way to satisfy their grief. This is the traditional meaning which is mentioned in this chapter. In a later chapter I will be adding a few other options on how to exact compensation for the loss of a kinsman.  
  
I include wergild in my series of laws/codes making up the Wizard's Code.  
  
Big thanks again to Maria, my beta.  
  
Thank you for reviewing Laura Kay, Minerva Lea, Static-Filled Star, and CEA  
  
Laura Once I decided I was going to have both of Minerva's parents and Armando Dippet be diviners, I just did a quick bit of research online to find a few divination terms to use for my story to make it more authentic. Personally I don't even bother to read my horoscope =) Grindelwald killed Artemisia for use in anthropomancy, divination using the entrails of a human sacrifice. If you reread the dinner scene you might pick up on a few small comments made by Artemisia that indicate she knew it would happen and found it well for lack of a better word, amusing. Let me know if that doesn't answer your question.   
  
Also I fixed it so now I do accept anonymous reviews. Thanks for pointing that out to me.  
  
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Sitting at his desk, Albus Dumbledore looked over the line of his half moon glasses to watch Tom Riddle. A professor should be unbiased. He frowned upon those professors who showed preferential treatment to students of their own house. Dumbledore felt confident he was not one of those professors. He treated all the students, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins with the same courtesy and respect. Well, all but one anyway.  
  
Usually he couldn't place exactly what it was about Tom Riddle that he disliked. Sure there was the sneer of his face and the malevolent glint of his eyes. But both were quickly replaced by an eager to please, angelic expression as soon as Tom noticed the presence of an authority figure. Dumbledore, however, had watched Tom closely since the opening of the Chamber of Secrets a few years back. He had caught the expression more times than he could count. But then most students behaved differently when around the professors, so that couldn't be it.  
  
Maybe it was Tom's smugness when he received the award for special services to the school. Or the condescending look he wore whenever passing the assistant groundskeeper. Perhaps it was caused by his certainty that Rubeus Hagrid would never knowingly harm anyone. And if Hagrid had not been the one to cause the attacks on the school, there were only so many logical conclusions as to why the attacks had stopped.  
  
Well, whatever the cause usually was, he certainly knew what it was about the young man that he disliked at the moment. Having successfully completed his own transformation, Tom was keeping himself occupied by taunting the Ravenclaw in front of him for his incomplete transformation.  
  
"Next time, you should try something a little easier."  
  
As Dumbledore left his desk, the classroom door opened. Alastor Moody quietly found an empty seat in back. A glance at the auror was enough for Dumbledore to know there was no new information. Moody had gotten into the habit of visiting Dumbledore on a semi-regular basis.  
  
"Your attention please, class. Let's try something a little more challenging since some of you seem to find this class so easy."  
  
The students looked around in confusion. For one thing, most of them were struggling to keep up with the NEWT level work. For another, there were only five minutes left to the class. What could they hope to accomplish in five minutes?  
  
Conjuring four teacups, he set them in a circle. He spoke the incantation carefully. When he swished his wand he attempted to mask his look of concentration. He wanted this to look effortless.  
  
In a synchronized motion, the four cups began to rotate and transform. The NEWT level class combined all four houses and Dumbledore being unbiased as ever, they became miniatures of the four house mascots. The lion thrashed his tail and roared. The eagle's wings expanded dwarfing even the lion. The snake uncoiled to its full length. The badger arched its back to better sniff the air.   
  
Still they moved simultaneously in a single fluid motion. The snake unhinged its jaw to capture the badger in its mouth. The eagle poised, beak and talons at the ready to pin the snake directly below its head. The lion's mouth was open, eager to consume the eagle in turn.  
  
Without even the flick of a wand, Dumbledore held them all in place. Still animated, they were contained only by the force of his will. After waiting a full minute to allow the class to take note of the total control he had over his creations, he ended the spell.  
  
Still carefully maintaining the outward appearance of ease, he mentally sighed at the exertion needed for the spell. The applause took some time to die down.  
  
"The challenge is two fold. Transfigure all four simultaneously and keep control of your creations. Each has their own set of urges and desires. Your will must be greater. If you lack the power or concentration necessary for the spell, the result will be most … unpleasant.  
  
He called Tom to the front of the classroom.  
  
Tom rose from his seat and glared at Dumbledore. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath. As he exhaled, he spoke the words.  
  
The first teacup grew shorter and longer. Its color changed to green - a perfect snake. The second tried to be an eagle, but its tail and mane prevented it. The lion's loss of tail and mane was not the most noticeable thing about it. That would be the feathers that covered all of its body. The badger looked passable from behind. But from the front, when it opened its beak the fangs were truly disturbing.  
  
They all stood silently for a moment. Then they noticed each other. When they began to rip and tear at each other, the malformed badger actually held up fairly well against the others with his new features.  
  
The young Slytherin turned a Gryffindor color as he lost control.  
  
Loud enough for the entire class to hear, Dumbledore spoke.  
  
"Perhaps next time you should try something a little easier, Tom."  
  
Dumbledore aborted the unsuccessful transformation.  
  
The bell rang and the students filed out of the classroom.  
  
"Tom. A moment please."  
  
The head boy returned to the front of the classroom.  
  
After watching the young man a full minute without saying a word, Dumbledore spoke.  
  
"I do believe, I was fifty before I had the power and concentration required to maintain a spell like that."  
  
Riddle's fury was evident on his face.   
  
"So all that was just to humiliate me?"  
  
"No, Tom. You are a very powerful and talented wizard."  
  
Dumbledore regarded the young man for a minute before continuing.  
  
"I did it to show you that no matter how powerful you are, there will always be someone more powerful than you. It's an important lesson to learn."  
  
"Will that be all? Sir."   
  
Riddle sneered, no longer bothering to hide his contempt for the older man.  
  
"Yes, Tom. I'll write you a note excusing your lateness. Charms next, is it?"  
  
"Don't bother," was the curt reply. Riddle headed out the door.  
  
Frowning, Dumbledore began to wonder if that had been the best way to handle the situation.  
  
"I don't think I need a psychic to tell me that boy doesn't like you," was Moody's amused contribution. "Little hard on him, or have the NEWT requirements increased dramatically since I took them?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed. How to explain the whirlwind of thoughts and ideas going on in his mind. Instead, he decided to change to the topic that had originally brought the auror to him.  
  
"Still no idea where Minerva is or even how she escaped?"  
  
It was the younger man's turn to sigh.  
  
"Not in the slightest. The house elves can't or won't talk. Technically, Grindelwald is still alive, so they are bound to him. No one apparated from the manor. Not the wizard way, not the house elf way, not the phoenix way. No port keys went off. The entire estate was filled with and surrounded by hit wizards. Even with an invisibility cloak no one would have been able to walk out of that house. All of the house elves are accounted for and confirmed to be house elves. I personally cast 'Finite Incantatem' on the kitten we found till my throat hurt.  
  
In the past few months, at the cost of death to five fully trained aurors and loss of sight for two more, all the various traps and protective spells have been deactivated. The entire manor has been disassembled stone by stone. A series of hidden chambers were discovered - all empty. Quite frankly, I am beginning to suspect we kissed off any hopes of finding that girl when the Ministry let the Dementors… anyways, I think the time has come for you to take what Artemisia said seriously."  
  
Dumbledore waved a hand at the auror dismissively. He had no idea how a seven year old girl had managed to exit a room in a house filled with dozens of aurors and closing the door behind her vanish from the world completely. Even so he refused to believe Artemisia's prediction that Dumbledore must find the child and destroy her. Artemisia warned if he did not, she would one day have the power to destroy him.  
  
"If you won't leave the school, at least let us send some people here to protect you."  
  
Dumbledore gave Moody an amused look. "Yes, I can see it now. Aurors patrolling the halls stunning every black haired, gray eyed girl who tried to approach me - even my students. No, I think I will ignore Artemisia's advice and continue with my life as it is."  
  
Moody sighed again. "Yes, being in a school does make it more of a challenge for us, but easier for her. That's why I suggested you leave. She is getting older you know. Would be eight by now I imagine. In a few years, your enemies could just enroll her here and-"   
  
Wham. Moody smacked his fist on the desk.  
  
"Tell me Alastor, have you decided to follow Grindelwald's advice?"  
  
Moody blushed furiously. "Well, he only mentioned a little thing to me so I didn't see any harm in it. The new trunk is nice."  
  
Moody stroked his chin thoughtfully.  
  
"Seven compartments. Last one is as big as a cellar."  
  
Dumbledore chuckled in amazement. Grindelwald's last act before the Dementor's kiss had been to tell Alastor Moody how much more enjoyable his later years would be, if he bought himself a bigger trunk. More to change the topic than anything else, he asked, "So what becomes of it all now?"  
  
Moody shrugged.  
  
"The Ministry has no plans to reassemble the house. Various families of Grindelwald's victims have begun to squabble over his elves and estate to pay the wergild. No official records exist for the girl, so even if she is ever found, she won't be inheriting anything through him."   
  
Moody smiled bitterly.   
  
"You know she disappeared so completely half the people who saw her have begun to wonder if she ever existed at all."  
  
Dumbledore shook his head at this.  
  
"If she never existed who exactly handed over Grindelwald's wand?"   
  
After pausing for a minute to think on all that had been said, he asked another question.  
  
"The kitten. What happened to it?"  
  
Moody grinned shaking his head.   
  
"Bloody thing bit my wand and then bit me when I was casting on it. Sent it off to make sure it wasn't poisonous. It wasn't. Not sure what happened to it after."  
  
Dumbledore chuckled remembering the mischievous gray and black tabby kitten that repeatedly drove Grindelwald to distraction.  
  
"Did you really think it was poisonous?"  
  
Moody shuddered. "After seeing the way Grindelwald killed his own wife and the way some of the others died while taking the house apart, nothing would have surprised me."  
  
Dumbledore sobered. "Well it's almost lunch time. Are you staying? I'm sure Dippet would like to hear the update from you directly."  
  
Moody nodded and followed him to the Great Hall.  
  
*****************************************  
  
Tom Riddle, Dumbledore later learned, never made it to Charms class that day. He also never bothered with lunch or his afternoon classes. Instead, for the rest of the day Riddle was in his room practicing the incantation over and over, unsuccessfully.   
  
Years later, the other occupant of the Head Boy room told Headmaster Dumbledore that Riddle could be heard to remark aloud;  
  
"Before I graduate, I will show that old fool Dumbledore that no one humiliates Lord Voldemort." 


	20. Chapter 20

This chapter is R  
  
Somehow I just don't see Tom Marvolo Riddle or Lord Voldemort contributing information of any kind to Albus Dumbledore so as much as possible I tried to come up with other methods to show Tom's memories.  
  
In this chapter, the word 'he' always refers to the narrator.  
  
*************************************  
  
Oh to be flesh! He had some senses, he could see and he could hear. But to truly smell! Be it the crackling fire beneath him or the scent of the rain wafting in from the open window. What he would not give to truly know their scent. And to taste! Just once to actually be able to savor the flavor of the fruit sketched and colored onto the table beside him. But most of all, the sense of touch. To feel the chair he sat upon, to know the apple within his grasp. To gently caress another being. To touch, to feel. To know genuine human emotions. To feel joy and happiness. To know love.  
  
For five hundred years he had hung on the wall of this room, coveting the simple idea of being of the flesh that the room's various occupants through the years took for granted. For all his existence, he had wanted something more than what he was, nothing less than what whoever happened to share the room with him in a particular year was given as birthright.  
  
At least until this year. It wasn't long after this year's Head Boy took up residence that he had decided being flesh wasn't so wonderful after all. Not if it might make him anything like that young man.  
  
The young man was again trying the spell with the teacups when the knock came at the door. When the young man again failed at the spell, it had nothing to do with the knocking on the door. That, however, did not stop the young man from taking his anger, frustration, and humiliation out on the young girl doing the knocking.  
  
When the young man invited her in and closed the door behind her, he wanted to shout a warning to her. But he couldn't. Oh, he could speak, he could offer warnings and raise alarms. But only against interlopers, outsiders. Not against Hogwarts' own.  
  
No one had yet realized that sometimes it was Hogwarts' very own who could do the most damage, cause the most destruction and misery. So the castle's protective enchantments and wards only worked against attacks from those not belonging to the school. Not ever against the students. It was an oversight begun in the time of the founders. It was an oversight that the auburn haired professor would rectify many years later as the silver haired Headmaster. But even then, it would only be in reaction, too late to prevent a most devastating attack upon the school. Too late to help those left unguarded in the attack and certainly too late for this young girl.  
  
He wanted to leave. He wanted to wander off into one of the other frames in another room. Instead, he stayed. He stayed so he could stand witness if the girl brought a complaint to the Headmaster or to the young man's Head of House or her own Head of House. Privacy wards meant he was not allowed to volunteer what went on in rooms, but if one of the people in authority asked, he would be allowed to tell what happened.  
  
He knew his testimony wouldn't be called for though. When the young girl left, she wouldn't tell any of the people in charge what was done to her. None of the young girls or boys ever did. And so, none of the people he could answer would ever think to ask. The Headmaster never concerned himself with the present, he was too focused on things yet to pass. The Head of Slytherin only bothered with things that had happened at least a hundred years ago. The girl's Head of House might think to ask him things, but the auburn haired professor never yet had reason to come into the Slytherin Head Boy's room.  
  
  
  
But still, he stayed. Even if the girl didn't realize she wasn't really alone through it all, maybe it would still help. He knew leaving would do nothing for his own despair.  
  
  
  
Seeing the teacups, the girl smiled sadly.  
  
  
  
"Tom, you aren't still trying that spell are you?"  
  
  
  
When she got no answer but a stare, she went on.  
  
  
  
"You have been locking yourself in her for the past two weeks doing that spell. Come to the Great Hall for dinner with me. I want to cheer you up."  
  
  
  
The beautiful dark haired boy's eyes traveled up and down her body appraisingly.   
  
  
  
How he wished the young man was not so beautiful, maybe then they would not follow after him so.  
  
  
  
The young man's voice was almost as cold as his eyes when he responded.  
  
  
  
"How does a silly little Gryffindor like you plan to accomplish that?"  
  
  
  
The girl blinked, startled by his words and tone. Suddenly very uncomfortable, when the young man stepped closer, she stepped back towards the door.  
  
  
  
Her voice was trembling.  
  
  
  
"I don't know."  
  
  
  
The young man's face looked angelic with his response. Like one of the lesser angels, the fallen ones.  
  
  
  
"I do."  
  
  
  
With one hand in her hair, the young man forced her head down. His other hand removed the clasps of his robe and opened his trousers. A harsh yank on her ponytail made her cry out in pain. The young man took the opportunity to force his member into her mouth. She tried to pull away, but the door which she had backed up to, seeking refuge, gave her no escape. She gagged when the foreign liquid filled her mouth, but the young man didn't pull out until she finally swallowed.  
  
  
  
Tears staining her face, she rose. Turning her back to him, she fumbled with the door handle.  
  
She whimpered when the hands came around her middle, dragged her to the bed and pinned her there.  
  
Pushing her face down into a pillow, the young man pulled her robe and the skirt underneath it up to her waist. Her undergarments were soon down to her knees. Her struggles against him and the sounds only partially muffled by the pillow had excited him again. After climbing on top of her, the young man began thrusting inside of her. When the girl's cries sounded more painful than humiliated, the young man pulled out.  
  
After seeing the blood on his member, the young man gave a satisfied nod. When the young man returned to his thrusting, even though he was unable to properly see from his angle above the fireplace, he knew it was in a different, more painful orifice. The young man liked to break things, to mark them. Once that was managed, if the girl was not a pureblood, the young man would not leave his seed in a place where it might grow.  
  
Finally satiated, the young man rolled off of her. Facing the young girl, torn and broken, a breathtaking smile appeared. The girl just kept crying into the pillow with his words.  
  
"I guess filthy little mudbloods do have their uses."  
  
After the girl left, the young man went over to his desk. Turning to the back of his black diary, the young man paused, concentrating. Finally, the young man shrugged. Having not noticed her name in class and never having bothered to ask, the young man simply added another slash to the column.  
  
No, no longer did he wish to be made of flesh. Except…except maybe to weep.  
  
************************************  
  
A/N Maria, thank you again for betaing.  
  
Thank you Mavidian, Minerva Lea, Static-Filled Star, and RainQueen1 for reviewing.  
  
I probably shouldn't be pointing this out, but everyone seems to have forgotten when Luna made her claims Snape openly refuted…wait, no I definitely shouldn't be pointing that out.  
  
RainQueen1 So happy you are enjoying the story. I'm afraid my Dumbledore and Moody are a bit younger and not yet as all knowing as the ones Harry gets to meet some 50+ years later. The second part of the house elf's statement, "That's not Master's cat, sir. That's Master's daught-" was never completed and the most logical conclusion to that statement, I think, would be, "That's Master's daughter's cat."  
  
Having said that, Moody did check to see if the cat was enchanted. He mentioned casting 'Finite Incantatem' on the cat several times. Two different possible explanations will be given in a later chapter as to why that didn't have any effect. One simply being that a different spell is needed to forcibly end an animagus transformation and really who would expect a seven year old to be an animagus? I could be entirely wrong about that whole a different spell being needed, but in POA when Lupin and Black forced Pettigrew to transform back, the fact that they never said 'Finite Incantatem' led me to believe it might be a different spell. Just to cover my bases incase I am wrong there will be a different explanation given in a later chapter.  
  
Anyway I hope you find that to be a reasonable enough explanation.  
  
Next chapter you will find out exactly where Minerva has been the past few months and what kind of trouble she has been getting into. 


	21. Chapter 21

A/N Thank you Maria for being my beta.  
  
As for the naming of my characters, 60% of the names are pulled from Mythology or the Bible and have a relevant meaning. 30% are just names I saw somewhere and liked. Selection of names for the other 10% involved an open phone book, a dart, and an act of desperation.  
  
The naming of the character introduced in this chapter, Thomas McGonagall, has a very obvious underlying meaning. I used the name before I even made the connection that it technically is the same name as Tom Riddle. Just keep in mind that Tom is always Tom Riddle and Thomas is always Thomas McGonagall. For the most part the professors always refer to students by their last names so there will not be too much confusion for the reader. Potential confusion because of the two names being similar won't come up for a long time and won't be the readers'.  
  
Going to start sticking together quite a few different events into single chapters to avoid having tons of little chapters. Some things of incredible importance may be left to stand alone to signify their importance.  
  
*** denotes a passage of time, just how much time if you read it will usually be implied.  
  
### denotes a change in narrator   
  
***### denotes both occurred  
  
*********************************  
  
"Rather unusual, isn't it?" asked Deputy Headmaster Shackleton.  
  
Headmaster Dippet stroked his toad as he responded.  
  
"Unusual, yes. Unheard of, no."  
  
"Sixteen?"  
  
Dippet merely nodded.  
  
"Even for a muggle-born, that is unusually late to suddenly develop powers."  
  
Again, Dippet nodded.  
  
"The parents were hesitant to allow him to come. The boy was completely against the idea. Maybe it has been going on for years and they just managed to keep it quiet?"  
  
Dippet decided he had best stop nodding before his neck became unhinged like Sir de Mimsy-Porpington.  
  
"Unlikely. Abilities as powerful as his would be rather difficult for muggles to hide for long. Besides, why bother to hide his abilities? If a muggle-born's parents do not wish to have their child educated here, we have no recourse. Separation of Wizarding and Muggle communities."  
  
Shackleton frowned.  
  
"Which is more unlikely? Muggles successfully hiding abilities that powerful for years, or a muggle developing abilities that powerful in the span of only a few months?"  
  
He was saved from having to respond by the arrival of the young man in question and his Head Boy escort.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Riddle. Please remain a few minutes so that after the Sorting you may assist Mr. McGonagall in finding his new dormitory."  
  
Facing the other young man in his office, Dippet continued speaking.  
  
"Hello, Mr. McGonagall. I am Headmaster Dippet. This is my Deputy, Master Shackleton. Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."  
  
When the young man only ground his teeth in response, Dippet attempted a polite smile.  
  
"I see you have brought a familiar. Your kitten has lovely markings."  
  
Seeing Mr. McGonagall was not to be assuaged, Dippet gave up his awkward attempt.  
  
"Here, we will instruct you on how to safely harness the powers which you posses. By the time you leave Hogwarts, with a bit of hard work and concentration on your part, we can be sure that next time you think about kindling a fire it will be contained in the fireplace and not envelope an entire wall of your house."  
  
Mr. McGonagall just shifted uncomfortably at the mention of the incident that had finally persuaded his parents that having an untrained wizard was a dangerous prospect. For months, the McGonagalls had declined the intervention offered by the Wizarding community. Oh, Mr. and Mrs. McGonagall had been quite excited and fascinated upon learning of the existence of wizards. It was young Thomas McGonagall who had steadfastly refused the idea of attending a school of Witchcraft. The boy had refused to acknowledge his own abilities and indeed tried desperately to repudiate even the existence of wizards.  
  
"Hogwarts students are divided into four noble Houses named after the four school founders; Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin. Selection into Houses is decided by the Sorting Hat."  
  
He motioned for Thomas McGonagall to be seated. After a moment's indecision, McGonagall set the kitten he was carrying on the carpet and took the armchair offered. Dippet retrieved the Sorting Hat from a shelf and placed it on the young man's head.  
  
All eyes were on the young man, waiting for the hat's judgment. All eyes remained on the young man as the hat refused to speak. Perhaps, 'all eyes' was not entirely accurate. The little kitten was busy exploring the room. The only sound in the room was the grinding of Thomas McGonagall's teeth.  
  
Shackleton frowned.  
  
"Maybe it left? Maybe whatever is inside the Sorting Hat moved like the people in the portraits do?"  
  
"Don't be daft. Where would it go?"  
  
Shackleton pondered the possibilities for a few minutes before replying.  
  
"Another hat?"  
  
Dippet just stared at his deputy a moment before making a polite coughing noise.  
  
"Sorting Hat?"  
  
"Yes," replied the hat immediately.  
  
"Whenever you are ready, we are waiting."  
  
The brim of the hat made an attempt at a frown.  
  
"You will be waiting for some time. I don't mind sorting the muggle-borns, but exactly what do you expect me to do with a muggle?"  
  
Dippet exchanged a look with his deputy who merely shrugged.  
  
"Well, take your time."  
  
After a few more minutes of silence, Dippet motioned his deputy closer. Turning his back to Mr. McGonagall so the young man would be less likely to overhear his low tones, Dippet made some inquiries.  
  
"He is the only child in the house?"  
  
"Yes, just him and the parents."  
  
"Most peculiar."  
  
With his back to Mr. McGonagall, Headmaster Dippet didn't notice the little kitten jump onto Mr. McGonagall's lap. Deputy Headmaster Shackleton was facing towards Mr. McGonagall, but too concentrated on his superior to notice the kitten climb up Mr. McGonagall's shoulder to inspect the inside of the hat. Head Boy, Tom Riddle was the only one to take note of the startled kitten running out of the hat.  
  
The small gray and black kitten was on the carpet, hissing up at it, before the Sorting Hat could even announce its decision. The two men returned their attentions to Mr. McGonagall as the Sorting Hat's booming voice filled the room.  
  
"Slytherin!"  
  
Dippet's voice was tinged with relief at the arrival of an end to the awkward situation.  
  
"Splendid. You know our Head Boy here, Mr. Riddle, is in the Slytherin House."  
  
Dippet failed to notice Mr. Riddle's look of contempt as he continued speaking.  
  
"Mr. Riddle is also a muggle-born wizard. I think you two will get along splendidly. You have so much in common already, even down to the same first name. Mr. Riddle please be so kind as to escort Mr. McGonagall to your Head of House for room assignment.  
  
It was only as the staircase was spiraling down that Thomas McGonagall spoke his first words since his arrival at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
"You do know, none of this is real."  
  
*****************************************************  
  
##################################################  
  
Binns frowned. Hadn't these people anything better to do than bring their piddling little problems to him?  
  
"Really, I don't know what all of you are going on about. The boy does fine in my class."  
  
"Robert, all that is required of Mr. McGonagall in your class is that he sit quietly. In our classes participation is a necessity. I cannot get Mr. McGonagall to take out his wand, never mind attempt any transfigurations."  
  
"Have you considered the possibility he just doesn't find your particular branch of magic of interest, Albus? I know as a lad, I never had a mind for Transfiguration. Turning teapots to spinning tops, really a waste of a good teapot if you ask me."  
  
Robert sighed as Professor Shackleton weighed in with his opinion. Wouldn't he like to drop him off on an Antarctic glacier!  
  
"Robert, he doesn't do anything in my class except look sullen."  
  
"Imagine that! Here I am in a room with you and I look sullen. Is anyone else beginning to see a pattern?"  
  
When the new Care of Magical Creatures added on a complaint of his own, Binns tried to remember what happened to the last one. Had he been eaten? And if so why couldn't whatever it was have eaten Shackleton as well?  
  
"He doesn't even show up for my class. Came to the first class, called my creatures abominations and refused to ever return."  
  
Shackleton tried to start in on him again.  
  
"Robert-"  
  
He was so busy imagining the precious look on the other man's face, the unparalleled sight of him jumping up and down in frustration as he, Robert Binns, dread pirate of the Seven Seas, steered his mighty sailing vessel away from the glacier upon which he had marooned his colleague, that he lost track of the conversation.  
  
"Robert?"  
  
"Robert!"  
  
"Well, what do you expect me to do about it?"  
  
"He is in your House, Robert. Talk to the boy. That is an order."  
  
Before rising from his chair and exiting the faculty lounge, he made a mental note next time to kick the man in the shins before sailing away. Really, of all the nerve. What business had Shackleton of giving him orders? He had been a professor at this school for more than a hundred years before that man even began to teach. By rights, he should be Deputy Headmaster and giving him orders!  
  
Halfway to the Slytherin boy's dormitory, Robert Binns realized he wasn't sure exactly where the boy's dormitory was. Certainly his quarters were located near them, but he had never in all his years at Hogwarts bothered to ask their precise location. It wasn't mentioned in Hogwarts: A History, at least not the fourteenth century edition which was one of his prized possessions. Frightened at the possibility of accidentally discovering the lady's dormitory by mistake, he paused.  
  
In passing Head Boy, Tom Riddle, he thought he had found his salvation.  
  
"Mr. Riddle! A moment if you will."  
  
He had to hold in a snort at the younger man's misinterpretation of his words.  
  
"Actually, sir, I am on my way to a class."  
  
As if he really was making a request with his 'if you will.'  
  
"What class?"  
  
"Defense Against the Dark Arts."  
  
He waved a hand dismissively.  
  
"Don't bother. All you need to know from that class is don't get hit. Everything after that is redundant. You and I are going to pay a visit to Mr. McGonagall."  
  
When Mr. Riddle just stood there with a questioning look, waiting for him to proceed, he snapped at him.  
  
"I'm not getting any younger, Mr. Riddle."  
  
When they arrived at Mr. McGonagall's room, they found him wearing muggle clothing, sitting in a chair, tearing a page from one of his course books into tiny shreds. Judging by the large pile of scraps that the little kitten was playing in, it would appear this was not the first page to receive such treatment. He would have reprimanded the young man, but he noticed by the only as yet half destroyed illustration that it was a Herbology book. As good a use as any for one of those books, he supposed.  
  
Noticing the series of scrapes on the young man's hands, he thought it best to start the discussion with them.  
  
"Are some of the other students giving you problems, Mr. McGonagall?"  
  
"No."  
  
Binns frowned.  
  
"Well you have been fighting with someone. Or did the scrapes on your hands just magically appear?"  
  
Mr. McGonagall's voice came out far too tired sounding for one so young.  
  
"There is no such thing as magic. The cat did it."  
  
"Isn't that your cat?"  
  
When Mr. McGonagall just shrugged indifferently, he continued.  
  
"Well why have you been fighting with your cat?"  
  
"I haven't been fighting with my cat. She has been fighting with me. She doesn't like being left alone in the room all day."  
  
Well, so long as it wasn't a matter involving another student, it really wasn't any of his concern so best to move along to the next topic.  
  
"Mr. McGonagall, I have had several reports from your instructors that you are not working up to your full potential. From the accounts we received before your arrival, you are an extremely gifted young wizard. Here at Hog-"  
  
"-I am not a wizard."  
  
"Well of course not, but you will be. You just need a little training of your powers and -"  
  
"-I don't have any powers."  
  
Binns sighed. Why did these children always have to be so difficult, so…well, childish?  
  
"Mr. McGonagall, you have magical abilities far surpassing -"  
  
"-No, I don't."  
  
"Alright. Who set your house on fire? Who transfigured your imitation Christmas tree into a live tree that is now growing through two levels of your house? Who transfigured the ornamental dove on the top of the tree into a live dove? Who made all of your candy Easter chicks into real chicks? Who caused -"  
  
"The cat did."  
  
Robert sighed. He noticed Mr. Riddle had an eyebrow raised at this proclamation as well.  
  
"Your familiar?"  
  
"She wanted to eat them. She ate the dove and some of the chicks. The tree, I don't know, it kept falling over when she tried to reach the fake dove. Maybe she thought if it was real it would be stronger and easier for her to climb."  
  
"And the fire?"  
  
"At home she likes to sleep on my mother's pillow at night. But during the day the room is empty. She doesn't like to be left alone so she curls up on the rug by the fireplace in the family room so she can watch everyone's comings and goings. She likes the fireplace to be lit for the warmth."  
  
He knew where this was going, he could play along.  
  
"Familiars can be very powerful. A devoted familiar extends his or her energies, powers, and protections to our own. Why don't you take your familiar to classes with you? I am sure none of your professors would mind."  
  
"I don't like it here. What you people do here, it's not right. It isn't real."  
  
Alright, he had had enough. This wasn't getting him anywhere.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, take Mr. McGonagall under your wing. I am making you responsible for his progress. Teach him a few of the easier spells that a young wizard his age should already know. Make certain he attends all of his required classes regardless of how pointless most of them will prove to be later in life. Keep him out of trouble."  
  
He sighed as an angry Mr. Riddle attempted to refuse him.  
  
"Why me?"  
  
"Because maybe he will listen to you. You have far more in common with him than I do."  
  
Thinking of a few taunts he had overheard regarding the two muggle-born Toms now in Slytherin, he realized perhaps that had not been phrased as well as it could have been. In any other house, Riddle's mother having been a pureblood would have meant something, but in Slytherin having even one parent tainted by muggleness was considered unforgivable. Surely if Salazar Slytherin were still alive to see Mr. McGonagall, a pure muggle, sorted into his house, well the man would likely drop dead of shock!  
  
"We have nothing in common!"  
  
"Tom, You are both…young and I am…less young."  
  
He was becoming more flustered as he continued the conversation. Best to end it quickly. Walking to the door, he frowned and called out, "And I am Head of House with authority over both of you!"  
  
Problem solved or at least passed onto someone else, Binns' step was considerably lighter as he returned to the faculty lounge. He considered for a brief moment if perhaps his strong dislike for dealing with anything remotely awkward or problematic was why he had been passed over for the Deputy Headmaster position, but quickly pushed the idea aside as absurd.  
  
#########################################  
  
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?  
  
Even seething with anger as his Head of House departed, Tom Riddle ranked reasonably high on the list of the fairest of all, if only in the looks department. Being assigned a muggle as a shadow was clearly an outrage to his Slytherin sensibilities.  
  
Turning to the boy a year his junior, he demanded, "Take out your wand!"  
  
Thomas McGonagall shrugged. That boy could easily be considered handsome if he wasn't constantly frowning and making that awful noise with his teeth. Changing the part in his hair wouldn't hurt either.  
  
"If you want it, go get it. It is still in the trunk."  
  
Tom Riddle scowled before using his wand to unceremoniously upend the trunk, the entire contents of which scattered across the floor. A malicious grin found its way to his lips watching the little kitten struggle under the bulk of the never worn robes that landed on her.  
  
"Accio wand!"  
  
He turned the wand over in his hands a few times to inspect it before he tossed it to its owner.  
  
"What is it made of?"  
  
Thomas McGonagall shrugged unknowingly.  
  
"Wood."  
  
It was a wonder Tom didn't hex him right then. Instead, very slowly, in a voice reeking of contempt, Tom spoke.  
  
"My wand is maple, twelve inches, unicorn hair. Yours?"  
  
In a tone to match Tom's own, Thomas spelled out, "W-o-o-d."  
  
Tom's outrage was, if possible, growing.  
  
"You don't even know what your wand is made of?"  
  
Thomas just shrugged.  
  
Tom Riddle raised his wand at the other young man, but a nefarious grin traveled across his face and he lowered it. His voice was surprisingly silky when he spoke after conjuring four tea cups.  
  
"This is a very easy spell. One every first year should know. You swish your wand like this and say the words."  
  
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the trickiest of them all? Well at least the reaction of Thomas McGonagall should be more interesting to watch than the usual business of people brushing their hair. The poor muggle will probably die of shock at what happens if he manages even a partial transformation.  
  
Thomas for his part was already shaking his head.  
  
"How many times do I have to tell you people, I don't do this. I can't do this. And neither can you."  
  
Tom was not to be put off.  
  
"Show me. Just try it and if it doesn't work, I'll believe you."  
  
Thomas McGonagall was ever frowning, but after a moment's consideration, he relented. With a swish nothing happened.  
  
"Try it a few more times. No one ever gets it the first time."  
  
A second time nothing happened as Thomas McGonagall attempted the transformation. By the third time the gray and black kitten had finally succeeded in freeing herself from the robes. Hissing at Tom Riddle all the while, she jumped into Thomas's lap. Only the sudden appearance of the other, greatly overgrown cat, managed to take the kitten's attention away from the cause of her earlier difficulties.  
  
As the lion's tail swished, the kitten pounced trying to stop its movement. When the lion roared, the kitten scampered to its front to let out a meow and more fully inspect it. The kitten paid no attention to the other three animals as she rubbed her body affectionately against the lion's leg.  
  
If she had bothered to inspect the others, she would have found each a perfect specimen. The kitten however only had eyes for the lion.  
  
The shock on Tom Riddle's face was great, but it was nothing compared to the look on Thomas McGonagall's face. The four animals were hissing, sniffing, testing wings, or roaring with absolute precision, but Thomas McGonagall found them more disturbing than if the transformation had gone wrong. As soon as the kitten had departed his lap to follow after the lion, Thomas had stood and slowly began backing away from the animals. Now with his back to a wall, Thomas was noticeably shaken at the sight before him.  
  
"This isn't happening!"  
  
His voice got louder, almost shouting as he insisted.  
  
"This isn't happening!"  
  
When Tom finally managed to take his eyes off of the perfect transfiguration before him, he turned to look at Thomas. The younger boy's fists were clenched and one was near his mouth. After again attempting to refute what had just occurred, Thomas closed his eyes and bit into the knuckle of one of his fingers. Tom watched the blood trickle for a moment, fascinated, before using his own wand to end the transformation.  
  
Thomas remained against the wall with his eyes closed repeating his mantra over and over again. With the animals now returned to teacups, his voice became softer and more sure. The kitten was not at all happy at the loss of her new companion. When Tom approached her, she hissed and swatted at him. Narrowly avoiding her claws, Tom knocked over the teacups. The sound of them clinking together and shattering finally reawakened Thomas to the room around him.  
  
"She knows you turned it off. She made it happen and you made it stop. She doesn't like to be contradicted."  
  
Tom licked his lips and pushed a hand through his hair before responding. His whole body looked tensed, excited.  
  
"Does she have a name?"  
  
"Kitten."  
  
Tom snorted.  
  
"Let me guess, you named her?"  
  
Thomas nodded.  
  
"How long have you had her?"  
  
Thomas shrugged.  
  
"I don't know. Since before Christmas."  
  
"She doesn't look like she could even be six weeks old and you are saying you've had her for more than twice that?"  
  
Thomas didn't respond.  
  
"Where did you get her?"  
  
"I am or at least was supposed to be starting University next year. My dad suggested it would be a good idea to get a dog to keep my mother company after I was gone. My mother didn't see a reason to wait so they went out to pick out a dog at a nearby animal shelter. Only when they got there, my mother fell in love with that kitten instead. She thought the markings and colors were beautiful. She said the kitten looked so tiny she couldn't bear the thought of leaving it there.  
  
I was angry, disappointed. I was looking forward to a dog. You can take dogs for walks, teach them to fetch and do tricks. Cats just lay there all the time. They just sleep and they watch you. My mother tried to get me to like her by letting me name her. I said just to call her 'Kitten'."  
  
Tom licked his lips again.  
  
"The things everyone thinks you did, the things you say Kitten did…how exactly did she…did she make them happen or did she make you make them happen? I mean did she tell you to do them or force you in some way to do them or did she just do them?"  
  
Thomas frowned before admitting he wasn't sure.  
  
"At Easter we had some candies. You know the little marshmallow chicks? And she kept staring at them in their box."  
  
Thomas's face went pale as he continued the story.  
  
"I took one out and I was teasing her with it. I was, you know, moving it across the table like a real chick and making noises. She couldn't take her eyes off of it. I bit into it, you know the head first and then the rest. I took out another one and did the same thing. Only when I went to bite the head that time she got mad. She walked up to me and tried to take it away with her paw. But suddenly it wasn't a candy chick anymore. None of them were. I had the body of a real chick in my hand and the head in my mouth was…the others in the box were moving too."  
  
Thomas's face contorted and he looked down at the floor. Tom made no interruption into the silence and after a moment he went on.  
  
"With the fire I was sitting in a chair reading and I looked down at her on the little rug by the unlit fireplace. And I remember thinking it was the first time since we got her that it wasn't lit, because you know winter was over and it just wasn't necessary, it wasn't reasonable to have a fire going in the spring. And I knew she liked the fire, she would curl up so close to it. I just kind of wondered what she thought of it not being lit and I didn't think she would like it. She opened her eyes and she looked at me. She saw I was looking at her and she came over to me to be petted. And then all of a sudden the fireplace was lit but so was the whole wall.  
  
After that the people who kept coming to the house to talk about me…"  
  
Thomas frowned again.  
  
"My parents said I should go with them. Come here and try it here, see if it helped. They don't understand. My mum, she read in the letter that we were allowed to bring a rat, a cat, or a toad so she gave me her kitten to take. She thought I would be more comfortable, having something from home with me and I would fit in better with the other children having a pet like they all did."  
  
Tom frowned now.  
  
"What did your parents say when you told them you thought it was Kitten causing the things to happen?"  
  
Thomas looked horrified.  
  
"Are you mad? Of course I didn't tell them that. You can't just go around telling people that you have a cat that does things that…things that…things that aren't natural. Don't you know what happens to people who say those kinds of things?"  
  
The door opened and two of Thomas's roommates entered the room. They glared at Thomas and the mess from the trunk across the floor. When Thomas began hastily throwing the items back into the trunk without the use of his wand, Tom silently watched him. Closing the trunk, Thomas gestured to the door.  
  
"We should leave before she does anything else."  
  
Reluctantly, Tom allowed the younger boy to lead him from the room.  
  
A/N Thank you for reviewing Redwoman06, Static-Filled Star, Laura Kay, and the aol person who emailed me directly and whose name I have forgotten.  
  
Hope you are feeling better Static-Filled Star   
  
Laura sorry I misunderstood your question earlier. As for the answer what can I say *cough* plot hole *cough* Seriously though, enchantments have been shown throughout the HP series to dwindle with time. Chalk it up to something like the way the shamrocks & Krum dolls from the Quidditch World Cup started to slur their words until eventually they stopped all together. Or the way the suits of armor started to forget the words to the Christmas carols leaving spaces for Peeves to fill in his own versions. Not to mention by bonding herself to Grindelwald, Artemisia violated the very heart of Lachesis's decree and made Grindelwald's line and her own line the same. Still, despite all that Grindelwald's ending was, and later will be, hardly a happy one.  
  
Much later if I ever get to the point where I reveal more about Loki then you will see the difference in the spell through the ages. In the mean time consider what Loki told you to just be a fanciful tale and take comfort in the words of Arthur Weasley, "Oh come off of it…Everyone knows Loki is a crackpot."  
  
  
  
As for your chapter 21 comments, your wand idea is right on.   
  
The girl's identity is one of the few minor details in the story that is not of particular importance. I was merely attempting to establish some of the cruelties of my particular Tom.  
  
I'm pleased you liked the POV for the chapter. Since Tom would never willingly share memories with Dumbledore and at no point in this story will you ever see Minerva's POV, you can look forward to a few unusual narrators at times and a number of questions about their relationship to be left up to your interpretation. 


	22. Chapter 22

A/N Thank you for reviewing Laura Kay and Mavidian.  
  
Not that I am not happy to keep writing for those two, but if anyone else is reading this kindly hit the little blue button on the bottom and let me know.  
  
Just waiting to see if I get some feedback on this or the last chapter before posting the next few chapters.  
  
I fear by taking the story slowly most of my earlier readers have lost interest, but there is a point to it. I'm trying to make it so you can actually understand the cause and effect, the reasoning behind at least some of the choices individuals made and in doing so believe the choices to actually be just that, choices freely made.   
  
*******************************************  
  
The bedchamber door opened slowly. Whether it was done slowly in an attempt to be cunning or just trying not to alarm anyone already in the room, well that just wasn't a distinction mirrors are usually called upon to make.  
  
The five boys roomed here were all in class, which was really where the Head Boy ought to have been as well. Instead, Tom Riddle was checking behind the bed drapes and the window curtains, under the beds, inside the wardrobes, and even inside the trunks.   
  
When Tom called her name, Kitten didn't come. But then she was an exceptionally clever little kitten and even a not-at-all clever kitten learned quickly not to answer to a stranger's calls in a Slytherin dormitory.  
  
The boy's body language seemed frustrated at being outwitted by a kitten, but his voice remained gentle as he continued his attempts to coax her from her hiding spot. Admitting defeat, he returned to the door, but hesitated there. He headed back into the room and bent down to carefully examine the fireplace. A quick word and a wave of his wand began a fire in the empty grate.  
  
Later when the room's other residents returned from their classes, they would find it quite odd to have a fire going on such a warm spring day. The little kitten on the other hand, found the warm fire quite inviting. She waited a while in case the dark haired boy was planning to return, but eventually the temptation became too great. After carefully working her way down from her hiding spot on top of a bed canopy, the little kitten circled twice before curling her tail around her body and settling contentedly in front of the fire.  
  
*******************************************  
  
The next morning when Tom Riddle returned, he didn't bother searching the room. He did again try coaxing Kitten out, but she was not so easily won over.  
  
As the house elves often clean the bedchambers in the middle of the day when the students were supposed to be in classes, Tom was able to notice the few gray hairs that had been shed before the fireplace. He again lit the fireplace before leaving.   
  
This time the kitten's resolve didn't last nearly as long after Riddle's departure.  
  
********************************************  
  
The following morning Tom Riddle didn't leave the room after lighting the fireplace. Instead he drew a chair with his wand and set it a more than respectable distance from the hearth. He summoned a saucer of milk and placed it near the hearth before seating himself.  
  
Did this boy never go to classes?  
  
The fire had shifted a number of times and the room had become unbearably warm, but still Tom remained motionless. When the kitten's desire finally overwhelmed her sense of apprehension, only Tom's eyes moved as he discovered her secret hiding place in the mirror's reflection. As the kitten hesitantly approached, his lips moved into a smile.  
  
Giving the chair a wide berth on her way to the hearth, the kitten's caution was by no means gone. Never taking her gray eyes off of the form in the chair before her, the kitten sniffed the saucer of milk but would not drink it. Instead, she sat down by the fire still appearing tensed to bolt at the slightest movement.  
  
Tom's protest, "I assure you, it is not poisoned," only seemed to settle the kitten's resolve not to touch the saucer's contents.  
  
As careful as Tom was not to move suddenly, when he approached the saucer himself the kitten still shifted to four legs and with a high pitched yowl arched her back. Tom picked up the saucer and tipped it to his own mouth in an attempt to demonstrate the contents were not harmful. Only after Tom set the saucer back down and returned to his chair did the kitten return to a sitting position. The kitten observed him intently for several minutes before approaching the saucer. Even then the kitten was only willing to take a few tentative laps at the milk before again backing away.  
  
Tom's lips curled at the small progress. Before slowly standing and making his way to the door, he spoke.  
  
"I must go now, but would you like me to come visit you again tomorrow, Kitten?"  
  
When the kitten didn't react negatively, Tom's smile grew. As Tom rose slowly from his chair, the kitten tensed but she remained seated. Her eyes remained fixed on him as he made his way across the room.  
  
After the door closed behind him the kitten relaxed considerably and sampled the milk eagerly.  
  
*********************************************  
  
Tom found the kitten's behavior odd the next day. She came down from her hiding spot quickly enough to curl up by the fire, but she would not accept the milk he offered.  
  
After he sampled the milk himself he sat on the floor and leaned back against the chair he had summoned. The kitten eyed him suspiciously for a minute before she too sampled the milk. She paused for a few minutes as if waiting to see if anything would happen. Finally satisfied, she continued with the saucer before her.  
  
The chair wasn't pulled back as far today as it had been the day before. Sitting in front of it instead of on it brought Tom Riddle even closer to the kitten. Moving slowly, trying not to take the kitten's concentration off of the saucer of milk before her, Tom reached out to caress her fur. Looking up, the kitten was startled to see the hand approaching and dove under the nearest bed. With his wand he could have easily moved the bed aside, but the angry, frightened sounds coming from under the bed when he approached advised against it.  
  
Tom frowned as he returned to his seat. Within a few minutes the noises stopped, but half an hour later when Riddle finally left, the kitten still had not come out from under the bed.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
The next day was a Saturday so it wasn't likely Tom Riddle would have found the room empty as easily if he had tried to visit the kitten then. As it turned out, he had no need to return to Thomas McGonagall's room on Saturday to visit the kitten.  
  
Friday afternoon it must have been the loud commotion coming from the room Thomas McGonagall shared with four other boys that prompted a passing Tom Riddle to go in for an earlier visit. When Tom Riddle entered the room he found several profusely bleeding boys gathered around another young boy triumphantly holding a writhing pillow case. By the overturned furniture and the deep gashes to the boys' arms and faces it wasn't too difficult to figure out what had been going on. Seeing Riddle's raised eyebrow, a sixth year explained.  
  
"We are going to bring the giant squid a playmate."  
  
Tom quickly assessed the situation while the Mulciber boy spoke.  
  
"I've seen what you've done to some of the Gryffindor pets who have wandered into the dungeons. Surely you don't object to us showing that muggle what we think of him and his kind?"  
  
"Not at all." Tom replied sincerely. "But a better way to do it is to put McGonagall in a sack and throw him into the lake. He can usually be found in the library about now. He's easy to spot, he's the only one ever in the muggle book section."  
  
Tom gave the group around him an appraising look before continuing.  
  
"If you have never been in the library before just listen for that sound he makes with his teeth. You will find him easily enough."  
  
Tom held out his hand for the writhing sack. When the boy holding it reluctantly handed it over, Tom added another thought.  
  
"Don't forget to put something heavy in with him so he sinks to the bottom. And Goyle, go see the school nurse. It looks like you almost lost that eye."  
  
Once the others had left, Tom headed to the door still carrying the moving pillowcase. He nearly walked right into Thomas McGonagall when the younger boy entered the room. How the departing band of imbeciles had managed to miss him was as impossible to say as why they thought those hair styles looked good on them.  
  
"You're back early."  
  
Thomas looked at the pillow case in Tom's hand and the destruction of the room, but he didn't comment on either.  
  
"While I was in the library I wrote another letter to send home. I need to get a stamp from my trunk so I can mail it."  
  
Tom raised his eyebrow but didn't bother to contradict Thomas.  
  
"Kitten had a problem with your roommates today. I am going to keep her out of the way in my rooms for a while."  
  
Tom paused, perhaps waiting to see if the younger man would object. Thomas just shrugged and continued manually searching the room's ruins for his trunk.  
  
Halfway out the door, Tom turned around.  
  
"By the way, when you are done here head back to the library. Some of the others went there to look for you. They wanted to give you a proper tour of the grounds and the lake."  
  
#####################################################  
  
  
  
He shuddered when the young man entered the room with a small bundle. Would the other children never learn to keep a tighter reign upon their familiars? When the young man carefully set the sack on the bed the already traumatized kitten inside immediately worked her way out and hid under the bed. That the young man made no attempt to stop her did not at all reassure him. It was not at all unusual for the young man to 'play' with the creatures that meant so much to others before he finally disposed of them. When the young man lit the fireplace on that warm spring day, he was thankful his eyes were not angled to see the horrors he knew were to come.  
  
His confusion didn't begin when the young man summoned a saucer of milk. Rather it began when the young man didn't add anything to the milk and took a sip himself.  
  
It was long past nightfall before the kitten risked leaving the security of the bed's underside. Even though the young man remained motionless she still darted back under the bed as soon as the saucer was emptied. Before preparing for bed the young man refilled the saucer. At some point in the early morning hours that too was consumed.  
  
The young man spent almost the whole weekend in his bedchamber. By the end of Saturday the little kitten ventured out from the bed to curl up in front of the fire. She still didn't seem entirely relaxed, but by Sunday afternoon she actually approached close enough to sniff the young man's hand.  
  
On Monday after the young man departed for his day of classes, she actually seemed disappointed to lose his company. At midday when he returned to check on her she was already on her way to see him when he called her name. She wound her body back and forth between his legs affectionately.  
  
When the young man returned to his rooms after his last class of the day, not only did she willingly approach him, but for the first time she let him pet her. That evening while the young man filled parchments with ink at his desk, she laid on the desk, the better to observe him. When he sat in a chair near the fireplace to do his readings she started out curled on the floor, worked her way to the back of his chair to peer over his shoulder for a bit, and eventually settled on his lap to sleep. A few hours later when the young man climbed into bed, he had to use his wand to draw a new pillow for himself because the little gray and black kitten had already claimed his.  
  
By now the other presence in the room no longer had any idea what was going on. 


	23. Chapter 23

A/N Thank you Maria for being a wonderful beta.  
  
Thank you for reviewing Star Stuf, Morocco, Elayne Sedai, CEA, Static-Filled Star, Redwoman06, LinZE Laura Kay, and Mavidian. I really appreciate all of you reviewing. I don't expect everyone to review every chapter, but if you get a chance I would really appreciate it if you leave a little note letting me know I still have your attention every few chapters. The exception to this is Laura =) Laura has to continue reviewing every chapter because I am particularly fond of her reviews and I usually wait for it before I post the next chapter.  
  
Some more A/N at the end to address a few specific questions.  
  
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"Goblins have fought fiercely for many centuries to acquire the rights and place in the Wizarding community that they now hold."  
  
That grinding noise was really getting to be too much. It was a wonder the boy had any teeth left.  
  
"Trolls on the other hand, have just fought fiercely. They have never demonstrated the slightest inclination towards becoming productive members of Wizarding society. Like giants they just enjoy continual combat and seem incapable of the levels of higher thinking required-"  
  
Binns sighed. He would put an end to this.  
  
"Mr. McGonagall, do you need to visit the school nurse? Is there something awry?"  
  
He frowned when Mr. McGonagall answered him. He hadn't really been attempting to open a dialogue, only draw attention to Mr. McGonagall's disturbing habit and embarrass him into stopping.  
  
"Goblins and trolls aren't real. There are no such things as giants."  
  
When he snorted at Mr. McGonagall, the boy repeated the previous statements only louder.  
  
"Goblins and trolls aren't real! There are no such things as giants!"  
  
"Mr. McGonagall, as appealing as that idea may be, I assure you they do ex-"  
  
Mr. McGonagall stood up and was practically screaming now.  
  
"Goblins and trolls aren't real! There are no such things as giants!"  
  
Over the boy's shouts, he shrieked back.  
  
"This kind of behavior will not be tolerated in my classroom! Return to your seat now!"  
  
"Goblins and trolls aren't real! There are no such things as giants!"  
  
This wasn't good at all. Rule number twenty-one on the list posted by the door was no standing during his class. The rule against shouting in his classroom came after the rule against talking in his classroom, right before the rule against eating in his classroom.  
  
An end had to be put to this at once. The rules were clearly posted. Why, if the other children began doing it too it would just be anarchy.  
  
"Mr. McGonagall, you may be excused. Go to the Headmaster's office at once!"  
  
He watched Mr. McGonagall gather his belongings and head out the door. He gave a relieved sigh before continuing his lecture. Let Armando deal with it.  
  
"So while the goblin's behavior is classified as a revolution, the troll's conduct is merely considered wanton destruction."  
  
###############################################  
  
When Deputy Headmaster Shackleton entered his office with young Mr. McGonagall, Armando Dippet was freely willing to admit his surprise. Just because he was a Seer didn't mean he knew everything that was to happen. His visions were just fragments of a whole. Often they were not enough to truly understand what was to be, but they were frequently enough to misinterpret what was to be. Indeed, he feared Seers with their selective visions of the future were more blind than those without the Sight.  
  
When he looked inquiringly to his deputy, Shackleton leaned in close to whisper a response before he headed back out.  
  
"I have no idea. I found him knocking on the wall by the gargoyles. By the state of his knuckles, I would say he had been there a while."  
  
Armando attempted to smile reassuringly at the young man seated before him and not look at his raw, bleeding knuckles.  
  
"Was there something I could help you with, Mr. McGonagall?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
Still keeping that awkward smile on his face, he tried again.  
  
"Is there a purpose to this visit?"  
  
"Professor Binns told me to come here."  
  
He waited a moment, but elaboration did not appear to be forthcoming.  
  
"Why did Master Binns send you here?"  
  
"I don't know, sir."  
  
The boy looked genuinely confused.  
  
"How are your classes going?"  
  
"Fine, sir."  
  
The boy just returned his gaze for a few uncomfortable minutes as he tried to think of what else to say. In the beginning, Armando thought the return of assistant groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, was a welcome diversion.  
  
"Oh thank you, Mr. Hagrid. I can not fathom what Mr. Keys and I would do without your assistance."  
  
Standing, he carefully received his toad from Mr. Hagrid. It might seem excessive to ask the assistant groundskeeper to carry Mr. Keys on walks of the grounds twice a day, but Mr. Keys so did enjoy the outdoors. However, Armando felt Mr. Keys was getting too far up in years to travel unescorted. Strange disappearances had plagued the student's much younger familiars for years now. Armando refused to ever believe there might come a day when his loyal familiar would croak in a different way and be no more. So while it might seem to others an exuberant waste of Mr. Hagrid's time, Armando considered it one of the advantages, like having a moving spiral staircase, that came with being Headmaster.  
  
"Na at all, sir. Mr. Keys and me, we get on real well. If yeh don' mind me saying so, yeh have a fine toad there, sir."  
  
As he gently placed Mr. Keys on his cushion by the bookshelf, Armando Dippet could not help beaming down at his companion.  
  
"Do you hear that, Mr. Keys? Mr. Hagrid thinks you are a fine toad too!"  
  
He turned back to the two young men in front of his desk without enough time to give a warning to Mr. Hagrid as Mr. McGonagall swung the ruby encrusted sword of Godric Gryffindor. Perhaps the best place to store a sword was not in an unlocked cabinet.  
  
"Eh, wat yeh think yer doin'?" Inquired Mr. Hagrid while he easily swatted the sword out of the smaller boy's hands and pinned him against a shelf.   
  
Mr. McGonagall bellowed repeatedly into Mr. Hagrid's navel.  
  
"There are no such things as giants! There are no such things as giants!"  
  
Flabbergasted, Armando just watched a moment before he summoned a parchment, quill, ink bottle, and his Deputy Headmaster.  
  
"You know, Mr. McGonagall, I do not believe things are working out as we had hoped. Would you like to return home now?"  
  
The boy stopped struggling against Mr. Hagrid. His voice was a much more tolerable volume now.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"I will write a letter to your parents. Kindly collect all of your belongings and bring them to the Great Hall. Master Shackleton will meet you there and escort you home."  
  
After an inquiring look and a reassuring nod, Mr. Hagrid released the boy from his containment. Mr. McGonagall seemed much more stable as he left than he did when he arrived. Armando sighed. Personally he had no issues with muggles or muggle-born wizards. It was just sometimes the way the muggles reacted to the world of magic, well there were very good reasons why the Wizarding and non-Wizarding communities were kept so separate.  
  
Still composing his letter, Armando Dippet didn't look up when he dismissed the other young man.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Hagrid. Mr. Keys and I shall be expecting you again later this evening."  
  
######################################################  
  
Rubeus knew he had other tasks he should be doing now, but the other boy's behavior had upset him. After he picked up the sword and returned it to the cabinet where it belonged, he hurried down the spiral steps after the boy.  
  
He didn't like the idea of spying, but this boy could hurt someone. Until he was off of Hogwart's grounds, Rubeus felt he should be watched. He knew it was hard for someone as large as he was to move unseen, but his position as assistant groundskeeper helped him to blend in, disappearing in plain sight to most people. Even before Tom Riddle stopped him outside the Slytherin common room, he knew Tom wasn't most people.  
  
Tom was the reason he didn't like the idea of spying on other people. A couple of years ago, he had been expelled after Tom Riddle followed him and saw something he shouldn't have. Aragog was an acromantula, but Tom hadn't understood that. Aragog was harmless, he would never hurt anyone and even if he had - which he hadn't - if he had, they wouldn't have died the way Myrtle had. They said Myrtle didn't have a single mark on her and there wasn't any poison in her. If Aragog had killed her - which he hadn't - then there would have been marks. There would have been no body cause Aragog would have eaten it, but if there was a body then there would have been poison inside her.  
  
He had tried to explain that to Tom, tried to show him a picture in one of the library books that showed an acromantula. But Tom insisted it had been dark and that he didn't think the creature he had seen was an acromantula. Rubeus could have proven his innocence by bringing Aragog before the Ministry, but even though they would have known Aragog hadn't killed poor Myrtle, just the thought of what those monsters at the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures would have done to poor Aragog simply because he was an acromantula…  
  
If only Tom had stayed quiet or agreed it had been an acromantula. Sometimes he thought maybe Tom knew the truth and lied on purpose.  
  
"Hagrid, this is the Slytherin common room. Gryffindor common room is up - wait, that's right, you don't belong there anymore either. The grounds are outside Hagrid, so go keep them."  
  
Losing the struggle not to go red, Hagrid hoped Tom wouldn't see through his lie as he drew himself up importantly.  
  
"Official Hogwarts' business, Tom. I'm ter make sure Thomas McGonagall don' get in ter any more trouble afore he leaves."  
  
Tom started at his words. His eyes narrowed. Apparently the all-knowing Tom Riddle had missed something.  
  
"He's leaving?"  
  
"Aye. Packing right now."  
  
Seeing the boy in question struggling to drag his trunk out of a doorway, he corrected his comment.  
  
"All packed."  
  
Now Rubeus's eyes narrowed at the exchange between the two Toms. Tom Riddle stood in Thomas McGonagall's path, blocking him. His words were not even part question.  
  
"I'm keeping Kitten."  
  
Thomas looked confused.  
  
"What kitten?"  
  
Tom eyed the other boy suspiciously.  
  
"Your cat, Kitten. I'm not giving her back."  
  
Thomas looked no wiser than he had before Tom answered.  
  
"I don't have a cat."  
  
Tom was still skeptical.  
  
"So that's alright with you? I can keep your cat?"  
  
Thomas shrugged before responding.  
  
"With all my blessings."  
  
Tom stepped aside to let Thomas pass. He watched Thomas struggle with the trunk for a minute before turning away. As he walked to his own rooms, he called back a suggestion.  
  
"Make Hagrid do that."  
  
Rubeus's face went red again, but after watching the other boy struggle another minute, he easily took the trunk away from him. Anything to be rid of this boy sooner. He nodded forward.  
  
"Yeh walk in front where I can keep meh eye on yeh."  
  
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Generally speaking the Houses kept to their own tables in the Great Hall. Strictly speaking, there was no rule that required this, it had just been the tradition for as long as anyone remembered. The castle spirits mostly kept to themselves elsewhere, but when they visited during meal times, they usually fell into the old tradition of seeking out their Houses. Usually, but not always.  
  
This evening by request of Hagrid, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington was dining at the Slytherin table with the Baron. His arrival had garnered many unwelcoming glances from the table's living occupants. Still even if there had been a formal rule against him sitting there, really who was going to enforce a seating arrangement on a non-corporeal form?  
  
While he enjoyed the company of most of his other fellow spirits, there were a few who gave him pause. Recently departed Myrtle's behavior he put aside as being the suddenness of it all. Given a hundred or two hundred years, Myrtle would likely settle down and be more tolerable. The Slytherin ghost on the other hand made him uncomfortable. To be honest, perhaps the Baron wasn't as imposing as everyone made him out to be. Perhaps if people tried to be a bit friendlier to the Baron then the Baron might behave more civilly towards them. But it was very difficult to find the Baron approachable the way the light played off of the silvery stains on his garments. Even with all the Gryffindor courage Sir Nicholas possessed he had never found the daring to ask how the stains had come to be there, but after all in life or death only one thing had that particular silver color.  
  
No, ordinarily Sir Nicholas would not choose to spend the dinner hour with the Baron but Hagrid had seemed so desperate. Turning to glance at the High Table, he saw Hagrid watching him with a grateful smile. Ever since one of the Slytherin students had departed the school several weeks ago leaving their familiar behind, Hagrid had been concerned about the animal's welfare. Hagrid was under the impression that one of the older boys, Tom Riddle, might be taking care of the abandoned kitten, but he wanted to be sure. Hagrid was often overly concerned about creatures, but he usually meant well. Even Sir Nicholas had to admit the snake pit was not a well place for an unclaimed animal. So as much to assure himself as young Hagrid, he had agreed to make inquiries with the Baron. It had however taken some weeks to finally locate said Gryffindor courage to follow through with that agreement.  
  
In the end, the Baron had proved most unhelpful. After going on at surprising length about his own familiar who had passed on some several hundreds of years ago, the Baron had revealed that since then he had ceased to concern himself with small creatures. The evening however had still been considered a success given things he had seen and overheard going on a little further down the Slytherin table.  
  
Most of the other students didn't bring their familiars to meals and certainly of those that did, none let their familiars lay on the table. Head Boy Tom Riddle was not most students and so it seemed only natural that his familiar be unlike most familiars. The exact extent to which Tom's familiar was not like other familiars would be quite surprising when it later became clear.  
  
The small gray and black kitten laid on her side leisurely surveying the room. Young Tom carefully sliced the lamb on his plate into slightly larger than bite size pieces. After having taken a bite himself, he fed the remainder to the little kitten.  
  
Sir Nicholas noticed that while talking to another of his class, Tom became distracted and neglected to sample the next bite before offering it to the kitten. When the kitten turned her head, refusing the morsel, the gesture seemed royal to Sir Nicholas. Tom realized his oversight and after taking a bite himself again offered it to the kitten. This time she accepted.  
  
A few minutes later when his lamb supply was exhausted, Tom offered the kitten some of his duck. The disdainful, almost queenly turning of her head to refuse the offering, combined with her reclining position while all those around her were seated brought back images of his old days at Court to Sir Nicholas. Tom appeared confused at the kitten's behavior. This time he had not neglected to sample the offering. The act of comprehension replacing confusion was visible on his face before he spoke.  
  
"You don't like duck?"  
  
The kitten of course did not speak, but she did appear to answer. Her head turned regally so her eyes might meet and hold his gaze.  
  
A glance at the platter that had once but no longer held lamb caused Tom to frown. Seeing the as yet untouched leg of lamb sitting on the plate of the boy next to him, Tom didn't hesitate at all before reaching out and taking it.  
  
"Hey! I wanted that."  
  
Tom's blue eyes gazed calmly at the angry boy as he sliced the lamb. His voice seemed genuinely curious when he responded.  
  
"Nott, when have I ever cared about what you wanted?"  
  
Sir Nicholas watched as the other boy sputtered in response. He had worried about Tom Riddle when he first arrived at Hogwarts. To this day he wondered what had possessed the Sorting Hat to place a boy who had been raised in a muggle orphanage into the Slytherin snake pit. His fears had soon proved baseless as Tom Riddle had quickly excelled in the kill or be killed mentality of Slytherin House. Of course, he didn't mean kill or be killed literally, but there was an unmistakably predatory quality to some of the Slytherins. The weak ones never lasted long there.  
  
Tom had apparently adapted quite well to the part though, because young Nott sputtered for only a moment before conceding the loss.  
  
Tom took only small, almost token bites of the lamb before offering it to the kitten. Just enough so she would be certain he had sampled it, but leaving the lion's share for her.  
  
Nothing else of note occurred until dessert appeared. It wasn't the sudden arrival of the new dishes that seized the kitten's attention, every course of every meal arrived in the same magical way. It was a particular dessert that held her fascination.  
  
With a smile, Sir Nicholas noted Tom too seemed amused at the change that had come over the kitten. The leisurely quality was gone. The kitten no longer laid on her side, her small body was crouched down as low to the table as it could get. Her whole body was tensed and she seemed to have stopped breathing. Only her eyes moved watching the dessert.  
  
When she pounced on the jiggling gelatin mound no longer could Sir Nicholas make his majestic comparisons. Almost all the children around her laughed. Only the Mulciber boy upon whom a large portion of the gelatin spattered did not. With a furious expression he reached out for the little kitten on the table. It was really quite a testament to how well Tom had adapted to life in Slytherin, to the reputation he had made for himself, that he could prompt the other boy to pause without even taking out his wand. Not even standing, just the tone of Tom's voice caused Mulciber to stop.  
  
"Anything you do to my Kitten, you can expect me to do the same to you if not worse."  
  
No, Sir Nicholas would assure Hagrid later, there was no cause for worry. It seemed quite clear the formerly abandoned pet was being well taken care of now.  
  
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A/N Laura Kay Thank you. With all the reviews for the last chapter I am feeling much more loved now.  
  
Star Stuf I am glad you like the way Tom went about getting Kitten's trust. I wanted it to come across as believable and not too sudden.  
  
CEA I am blushing. No really I am. =)  
  
Static-Filled Star Well it might not be a happy ending but at least now you know how things turned out with Thomas.  
  
Morocco Glad you like my take on things.  
  
LinZE I'm very happy to know you are still reading. I hope this means I can come to you with a few more Brit questions.  
  
Redwoman06 Your question is pretty well answered in the next chapter. It is a tiny chapter so I posted it at the same time as this one so go have a look. I was mentioned on fictionalley! Wow I'll have to try to find it. =)  
  
Elaine Sedai Thank you for reviewing  
  
Mavidian Some of your questions will be answered in the next few chapters and others will never be explicitly answered. Ask again when the story returns to the present and I will feel more free to elaborate on both my take and the other character's interpretation of the relationship between Tom and Kitten.  
  
As for the POV thing, I admit once I originally established the narrator for each room I tended to skive off on more direct hints about their identity.  
  
Thomas's room was narrated by a mirror in the room except for the scene with Binns. In the first scene narrated that way I used the Snow White line to tell the reader. After that the hints were pretty obscure, usually comments about the part of a person's hair or other complaints about hairstyles. Just a quick line or comment that would seem in keeping with a mirror's ordinary concerns.  
  
Scenes in Tom's room are narrated by a portrait hanging over the fireplace. The portrait is discontent with the limitations of his life such as it is and therefore never makes direct reference to himself as a portrait. Things like his thanks that he was angled against the possibility of seeing what actually went on in the fireplace and references to his introductory monologue are the only indication given that it is still that narrator. 


	24. Chapter 24

He had seen it happen many times now. Even the young man had finally noticed it. Sometimes in her sleep, when the kitten was feeling particularly safe and content, she became a little girl. The tiny form on the young man's pillow would grow larger, but not at all large. Still in her slumber, she would nuzzle closer to the warm form upon whose bed she was sleeping.  
  
He had thought about telling someone she existed, that she was in the castle. But so much of the time she was a student's familiar and so he couldn't.  
  
This time when she nestled closer, the young man awoke. Whatever dreams she had interrupted had left the young man erect. When the young man, this Head Boy whom he could never consider a boy given the wretched things he had seen him do, lifted her nightdress up to her shoulders she didn't stir.  
  
He watched this young man who so enjoyed breaking things stare at the young girl's unmarked flesh. So young, she was not even old enough to properly enroll at the school. Without the swell of breasts to interrupt, the whole expanse of her flesh was flat.  
  
With all the heart that he didn't really have, he wished that the young man would let this one be. Just once to not see the young man mar and break something, someone so delicate, so beautiful.  
  
When the young man pulled the nightdress back down and after folding his blankets over her instead pressed a kiss to her cheek, he again wanted to weep. For the first time since the young man had taken up residence in this room, he wanted to weep for joy.  
  
He moved into another frame to follow the young man into the adjoining bathroom. After seeing the young man use his own hand to relieve himself, for all his joy he couldn't help but wonder. What was it about this one? What made him spare her, leave her unmarked, but never the rest? 


	25. Chapter 25

"Robert! Robert! Are you deaf?"  
  
His hearing was perfectly fine. He had just kept walking because he liked to make the other man run after him. It gave his life a sense of purpose. Seeing Deputy Headmaster Shackleton clutching his sides, gasping for breath made him feel all tingly on the inside.  
  
"Robert, I need you to look into something. That muggle-born that was in your House, McGonagall, apparently in his haste to leave he left his cat behind. The parents sent a letter, they want the cat back. Do you know what happened to it?"  
  
"Oh, of course I know what happened to it. Why it's in my pocket right now! Would you like to see it, or is my word good enough for you?"  
  
Of all the ludicrous things, as if he would know what became of some cat left here over a month ago. He fought back a smile at Shackleton's frown.  
  
"Robert, just look into it. That's an order."  
  
Watching Shackleton's retreating form, Binns mimicked the other man.  
  
"Robert, just look into it. That's an order."  
  
Oh yes, tracking down some wayward cat ranked very highly on his list of things to do. Certainly he would look into it. He would look into it just as soon as…just as soon as…well he couldn't think of anything unlikely enough to be adequate, but suffice to say he had absolutely no intention of looking into the matter.  
  
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The kitten laid before the fire the whole morning. Her eyes were fixed upon the door. If a kitten were able to scowl he was sure that was what the expression on her face was. As the morning hours ticked by she didn't sleep, didn't eat, didn't drink, didn't play with any of her toys. Her attention never wavered from the door.  
  
During the extended break between classes for lunch, when the door finally opened and Tom Riddle returned, the way she spent all her time waiting for the young man's return, he would have expected her to run right to him. Instead, when the young man approached she turned her head away from him. When a hand reached out to caress her, she avoided the hand and moved to lay on the bed. If she were a little girl right now, the expression on her face would surely be a pout.  
  
This same scene had been playing out every day for some time now. The little kitten was not at all pleased with the current arrangement of staying in the empty rooms while the young man attended classes.  
  
"Kitten, would you like to come with me to lunch?"  
  
A sigh could be heard in the room as with a haughty look, the kitten again turned her head away in response. Even dangling a piece of string before her would not get her to look at him.  
  
"My classes are boring. You are fortunate to get to stay here and chase your mouse while I am gone."  
  
The young man used his wand to enchant a toy mouse to scurry around the room. The kitten just rested her head on her paws dejectedly and refused to play.  
  
With a frown the young man gave up trying to appease the kitten and headed to the door alone. She picked up her head. The young man smiled when she ran to the door after him.  
  
"Changed your mind about coming to lunch, I see."  
  
When the young man bent down to pick her up, the kitten revealed she had not after all changed her mind. The young man scowled back at the kitten as the blood slowly trickled from the wounds she had provided him with. Still by the door, she sat on her haunches, piercing the young man with her gaze as she waited fearlessly for his response.  
  
Up in a frame over the fireplace, he had long since come to the conclusion he would never understand the relationship between the two. Had anyone else dared to stand up to the young man in that way, or in any way for that matter, he was confident that the young man would not have delayed a moment before mercilessly crushing them.  
  
"Fine. You can come to classes with me, but you had better behave. I hope you slept a lot this morning because we have History of Magic this afternoon. I can't allow you to fall asleep in classes."  
  
When the young man reached down again to scoop up the little kitten, it was perhaps not as gently as he ordinarily would have, but it was by no means roughly. The kitten holding her head aloft appeared pleased to, as always, get her way.  
  
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'For many hundreds of years, muggles have sought to purge the world of magic. By burning, hanging, drowning, quartering, and other means, they have tried to rid their world of our very existence. It is not enough for them to segregate and outlaw us, they will stop at nothing short of our complete annihilation.'   
  
"Or so said Araminta Meliflua in her speech before the Ministry attempting to get Muggle-hunting legalized."  
  
Robert Binns cleared his throat before continuing.  
  
"This is not retribution for some great crime we have committed against them, but rather it is the natural response to their fear of us. When you are frightened, there are but two paths to choose - you can flee before that which frightens you, or you can stand and fight it."  
  
Throughout the ages, this reaction has not been limited to muggles alone. Wizards too have been frightened and worked tirelessly to rid the world of those different from themselves. Often this conduct has extended not only to muggles, but to other magical beings as well.  
  
Recently we discussed the actions of goblins, trolls, and giants, but we have not yet touched upon the travesties wizards have visited upon other wizards.  
  
The world of wizardry was not always as you see it now. Once, long before your grandfather's fathers, the magic of wizards was very different and more diverse than what it is today. Oh, there have always been wanded wizards for as far back as our written histories can tell us, but long ago there were other kinds of magic.  
  
There once existed Seers with Vision so accurate that those they aligned themselves with knew no fear. Perhaps those of you taking Divination have heard stories of Grimsby. The Ministry of Magic still possesses volumes of predictions made by him. They are stored in some of the highest security vaults, though it has been millenniums since anyone has been able to even read the language in which they were written.  
  
In exchange for a comfortable, but modest living and what protections there were to be offered, Grimsby allied himself with a young lord from the province where he was born. The young lord grew to great wealth and power following the sage words of his Seer. No financial, political, or personal decision was made without consulting him. Even the selection of a consort was left to his discretion. And in all these matters the lord's trust was well placed for eventually the lord rose to be a King…"  
  
That Riddle boy, now there was a devoted student. Granted the boy wasn't taking notes, but he was awake. And not only that, he was keeping his familiar awake as well. Each time the small kitten's head would droop, Riddle would shake his head and tell the kitten she wasn't allowed to fall asleep. If only all his students showed such devotion to History!  
  
"…The King's rivals began to converse amongst themselves. 'T'was not right,' they said. 'T'was not just!' For one man to hold all the answers, all the power. Why if it were one of them who possessed such a gift, such a talent, would not they share it amongst the others? But of course, they agreed. It was selfish of the King to keep it from them. And so, for the greater good, they decided their course of action…"  
  
That kitten, wasn't that the one Shackleton had been talking about? It certainly looked like the same gray and black kitten. No, impossible. He had seen that kitten over a month ago. This kitten didn't look to be much more than a month old. One of the student's familiars must have had kittens recently.   
  
Perhaps there were more left. Perhaps he should look into acquiring a new familiar. He had the worst luck with them. Oh, they were nice enough in the beginning, but they just never seemed to last long, always dying or running off. Of course he wasn't all that good about remembering to feed them so maybe that had something to do with it. No, perhaps getting a new familiar wasn't such a good idea.  
  
"…'So long as you will offer me your protection, I will offer you mine,' had said Grimsby. 'No harm shall befall you or your kingdom so long as you do not betray me.'  
  
Though the castle was surrounded, the walls remained unbreached. Through the years, enough provisions had been stored by Grimsby's counsel to last many winters. However, the King still held doubts.  
  
It was the sheer enormity of their combined armies that made the King doubt his most trusted servant. His kingdom so prosperous, so happy, yet so much smaller. Why if you counted every man, woman, and child in it, it would not equal half of the army before him.  
  
In exchange for assurances that they would leave the rest of his Kingdom unharmed, the King turned Grimsby over to his enemies. Division sprang up then over what was to be done with him. Too many offered to take him in, manage his upkeep, and allow the others full access to him and his Visions. Not one trusted the other to keep their word.  
  
So in the end, it was decided to divide him equally amongst all present. Something of the powers of unicorns can be transferred through the drinking of their blood so why could not the powers of other creatures be shared similarly. And so they decided…"  
  
Well, so much for love of History. Once Riddle and his familiar had succumbed the whole class was asleep. He picked up a Defense Against the Dark Arts book from one of the student's desks. While the thunderous noise of it thumping against the floor didn't actually cause anyone to wake up, it did at least cause some of the class to stir in their slumber.  
  
"…It is said that all true Seers to this very day are descended from those who drank the blood of Grimsby. However unlike vampires and werewolves, who can only reproduce asexually by biting or scratching an already existing person, they can only reproduce sexually. For this and other reasons they do not fully meet the criteria set out by the Ministry and are not as such technically classified as one of the damned races.  
  
The Themis are, or rather were, classified as a damned race based on their soullessness despite their being able to reproduce sexually. They are actually the only of the damned races said to ever be capable of both sexual and asexual propagation based on the ability of a particular type of the Themis, which is no longer here nor there as the Themis are now officially classified by the Ministry as extinct. And as we all know, the Ministry is never wrong in these things.  
  
Seers on the other hand are not classified as a damned race but, it is said the reason Seers Visions are often distorted and their warnings go unheeded is a kind of retribution, an eternal torment to punish them for the acts of their ancestors long ago."  
  
As he looked up from his podium at the empty classroom before him, Binns frowned. He hadn't noticed the bell ringing and everyone leaving. A glance at the clock on the wall revealed it had happened some time ago. Perhaps he should pay a little more attention to the things going on around him.  
  
  
  
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Albus Dumbledore continued reading the essay before him as the NEWT level class filtered into the room. Glancing up as he affixed a mark to the top of the essay, he noticed everyone had arrived.  
  
"Copy down the notes on the board. When you are done, if you think you fully understand them you may begin. Those of you who have brought your familiars with you can practice today's transfiguration exercise on them."  
  
Before he leaned down to reach into the bottom drawer of his desk, Albus noticed a strained expression on Tom Riddle's face. After he retrieved the box of buttons from the drawer, he continued speaking.  
  
"Everyone else take a button from the box on my desk, transfigure it into a beetle, and go on from there."  
  
Riddle's face was flushed. Albus shifted trying for a better view, but he couldn't see what it was Tom was hastily struggling to put into his satchel. By the time Tom made it to the front of his desk to get a button the young man had regained his composure.  
  
As Tom returned to his seat, Dumbledore began reading the next essay in his stack. He knew he would easily be able to get through the few remaining first year essays before anyone finished copying the notes on the board.  
  
At the end of the lesson after Tom returned his borrowed button, Albus watched the careful way he picked up his book satchel. Albus raised an eyebrow when a small gray claw darted out to scratch the young man. He sighed at the words he could overhear as Tom walked out the door.  
  
"I had to put you in there. You don't know the kinds of things he wanted me to do to you."  
  
He shook his head in wonder. Surely in seven years Tom had realized no lasting effects were to be had from the very brief transfigurations he required in his classes. Next class he would be sure to make it clear that those bringing familiars were by no means required to use them in their transfigurations.  
  
He hadn't expected Tom Riddle of all people to be a cat person. Still, it was almost sweet that Tom wanted to protect his cat. Given Tom's usual attitude, it was reassuring to see evidence that such a tender, caring side existed.  
  
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Potion Master Pomfrey exploded right after Tom Riddle's cauldron did.  
  
"Come on people! You aren't first years, this is NEWT level work! Riddle, either you are an imbecile or you did that on purpose. Which is it?"  
  
Tom glowered at the young professor staring down at him.  
  
"I don't know what happened, sir. I followed your directions to the letter."  
  
Pomfrey pointed to the hand writing on the board.  
  
"Enlighten me, Mr. Riddle. Where exactly in my directions is the step instructing you to make your cauldron detonate?"  
  
He watched Tom for a moment, waiting to see if the boy would respond. Riddle's familiar had dived under the table when the explosion started. As he turned to walk to the front of his classroom, he noticed it climb back onto the table to inspect the cauldron of one of Riddle's neighbors. Just before he reached his desk, he whirled around in anger as the neighbor's cauldron exploded.  
  
"A week's worth of detention for both of you!"  
  
Just because it was his first year teaching didn't mean he was going to let the students walk all over him. He knew the students had to be doing it on purpose. The potion they were supposed to be brewing today never would have reacted that way with just the ingredients they were supposed to be using.  
  
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A/N Thank you for reviewing Star, Redwoman06, Tabby Girl, Static-Filled Star, pixi_stix, LinZE, CEA, Margo Wulfric.  
  
I know chapter 25 was extremely short, but it was also extremely important. Consider anything that short posted by itself to be red flagged - read, reread, reread once more and remember for later. I'm not completely heartless though. I promise to only post one at the same time as a longer chapter either before or after it.  
  
The portrait in Tom's room isn't anyone from the novels. He is just a random portrait of a man sitting in a chair next to a table with a bowl of fruit on it. A common enough portrait image from the time period he was painted in.  
  
It hasn't been explicated stated how Kitten got to the McGongalls but little hints have been given.   
  
In Chapter 19(FF labeled 20) Moody claims to have sent Grindelwald's daughter's kitten off to see if it was poisonous after it bit him.  
  
In Chapter 4 Moody quoted Loki from a scene never shown. "Oh, don't worry Alastor. I'll take the kitten over to the Disposal of Magical Creatures Department and get her checked out to see if she in venomous. Let me borrow your cloak to throw over her, so she doesn't bite me too." Loki explained he choose to leave the decision of who Kitten ended up with to the fates.  
  
Add in Thomas McGonagall's comments of his parents adopting her at an animal shelter in Chapter 22.…  
  
Don't be too hard on Loki, he meant well. And wait till you see what her other options were.  
  
You will find I seldom tell you things straight out. The closest you will ever get to a straight answer from me is when Harry asked Dumbledore if Peeves was McGonagall's poltergeist.  
  
Usually I prefer to tell you things in a far more roundabout way. I have one chapter where a character is eating cereal and Snape asks, "What in the name of Merlin is that." He is told about the pink hearts, yellow moons, green clovers, purple horse shoes, and told they are, "Magically delicious." However at no point is Snape actually told it is Lucky Charms cereal. I'm betting Lucky Charms probably never made it back to England and I will need to cut that scene though.  
  
There are all kinds of things that you might pick up on if you read carefully that won't hurt you terribly if you miss. Tons of foreshadowing and quite a few little jokes, like the name of Dippet's toad being Keys in relation to the title Hagrid used to introduced himself to Harry in the first novel. 


	26. Chapter 26

"I cannot believe Pomfrey gave me a weeks worth of detention. Who does he think he is, calling me an imbecile? I don't know what kind of game he is playing, I followed his directions perfectly."  
  
The young man was pacing the floor, almost frantically. His hand pushed through his dark hair as he continued speaking to himself.  
  
"I'll show him. He has no idea who he is fooling with. His first year teaching and already he is as bad as that muggle loving fool Dumbledore. The two of them are going to learn the consequences of meddling with Lo-"  
  
The young man's rants and pacing stopped abruptly as the little kitten sat in his path toy mouse in her mouth. The kitten had ignored his ramblings since they returned to the room, but apparently she felt his failure to provide her with entertainment had gone on long enough.  
  
The young man reached down and picked up the kitten. Stroking her fur in an oddly amused voice he inquired, "I'm sorry, am I boring you?"  
  
The kitten's response was to arch her back into his caresses. After the young man reanimated the mouse, the kitten rubbed her chin against his hand affectionately and jumped down. The kitten was able to quickly catch the mouse but released it with a head start so that she might play again. The young man watched the kitten's antics with the mouse for a few minutes before a knock at the door distracted him.  
  
The knock came a second time before the young man reached the door to open it. The sweet smile of the young girl at the door made the never noticed presence in the room cringe. The charming smile of the young man as he waved the girl inside made him positively ill.  
  
"Tom, I've been trying to find you alone to ask you something for weeks. Seems like all you do these days is stay in your room."  
  
Tom gazed up and down at the girl, still with his smile. He sat on the bed and indicated she should sit as well.  
  
"Well, now you've done it. Now you've managed to get me all to yourself. So tell me, what is it that you want?"  
  
The girl hesitated. She clearly lacked Gryffindor bravery. And a Ravenclaw would be clever enough to be frightened of that grin. A Slytherin would be too cunning, would know better than to be here.  
  
"Well…I…wondered if you were going to Hogsmeade this weekend. And I thought maybe if you were, well I thought maybe…"  
  
"You thought if I were going, maybe I could bring you back a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?"  
  
The girl looked confused.  
  
"No, oh no. I was planning on going. I just wondered if you were going or not and if -"  
  
"-You wondered if I wasn't going, would I like you to bring me back a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?"  
  
"Tom!"  
  
The young girl giggled, exasperated. The young man raised an eyebrow trying to appear innocent.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You know that's not what I meant."  
  
The young man cocked his head to the side.  
  
"What, am I supposed to read your mind? How exactly is it that I am supposed to know what you mean?"  
  
The girl wore an amused frown.  
  
"Do you want to go to Hogsmeade this weekend with me or not?"  
  
The young man reached out a hand to trace a strand of hair on the girl's cheek.  
  
"Now, was it really so hard to come out and say that?"  
  
The girl blushed, pleased at the young man's action and teasing tone.  
  
"You can be a bit intimidating sometimes, Tom."  
  
"I don't believe that at all!"  
  
His eyes scanned her face as if trying to memorize every detail before he continued speaking.  
  
"Do you really find me…overwhelming?"  
  
The girl admitted boldly, "I think you can be."  
  
Surely a Ravenclaw would have wits enough to flee this time at the young man's words and smile.  
  
"I suppose I am sometimes."  
  
Still gazing into her eyes, the young man asked more of her.  
  
"This trip to Hogsmeade. Would it be a friendly occasion, or perhaps more?"  
  
The girl bit her own lip, trying to contain her smile and the flush creeping across her face. She gave a little shrug before hesitantly speaking.  
  
"Maybe something more."  
  
The hand still on her face worked its way down to her shoulder, a better position for use in pinning her down in a moment.  
  
"Tell me Amelia, just how much more?"  
  
The girl didn't react very quickly. The young man already had her pinned down on the bed and was crushing her lips. Perchance she hadn't yet realized this was not to be something consensual or pleasant. Perchance she only began to suspect just how overwhelming Tom Riddle could be once he was the one biting her lips.  
  
In any case, that was when she started trying to protest and flailed against him. It seemed for a moment that finally the young man had chosen poorly. Though Hufflepuffs lacked Godric Gryffindor's courage, they were known for their loyalty and sense of justice. Surely Amelia Bones would not have kept quiet afterwards. She would have been the one to finally speak to those in authority. As fate would have it however, she would have nothing to speak of.  
  
As soon as the unusual sounds started on the bed, the kitten's attentions diverged from her own too easy to catch mouse. Jumping onto the bed, she attempted to investigate the cause of the sounds.  
  
The young man looked up to see the little gray and black kitten peering at him and started. The young girl spit up into his face, but the young man didn't react. He only returned the kitten's questioning gaze. When Tom Riddle turned away from the kitten with an ashamed look, he released the girl beneath him. The young girl slapped him hard about the face before she exited the room.  
  
No, the young girl would speak poorly of Tom Riddle to her friends, classmates, anyone who would listen. But in the end she never mentioned the actual incident to anyone. Particularly not years later when discoveries were made about the young man's other identity. After all, what was there to report? Almost as soon as she had told him to stop, he had.  
  
After the young girl's abrupt departure, the kitten remained on the bed, staring at the young man. The young man however would not return her gaze. The young man crossed to the other door and the sounds of a bath being drawn began. Only when the water's running was muffled by the closing of the door, did the kitten return her attentions to her own little mouse.  
  
**************************************************  
  
A/N As always thank you to Minerva Dumbledore1 for betaing for me.  
  
Just to be clear since during his lecture in the last chapter, Binns's mind wandered, as it often is want to do.  
  
The comparison between Grimsby's death and unicorn blood was because the people present killed him and drank his blood. Certain properties of unicorns, namely their if not restorative at least sustaining powers, can be transferred through the drinking of their blood. The people present, unable to come to a consensus about how to share a living Grimsby, each drank his blood with the understanding that perhaps they might all receive powers similar to Grimsby but at the very least, none of the others would leave with Grimsby. The standard if I can't have what I want no one will kind of thing. Something entirely different from a blood marriage bond.  
  
Thank you Tetris, Static-Filled Star, LinZE, Cluttered, Minerva Lea, & Mavidian for reviewing.  
  
Tetris - Kitten does age, however the small amount she has grown in the last few months as a little girl doesn't translate into a noticeable difference in cat form. Just the difference between a life span of 200+ years vs. 20+ years.  
  
Static-Filled Star Glad you are enjoying Binns. He will provide much of the comedy throughout the years.  
  
Cluttered - You are making me blush! Glad you are enjoying the story so far. Yes, Minerva does have that ability. As for sex scenes, it will be a few years before you see another one but expect many, many more. Usually not senseless smut, not that there is anything wrong with senseless smut. I tend to stick important character development and hints for later plot points right in the middle of them.  
  
Minerva Lea Yes, 8 now. 


	27. Chapter 27

"Robert, did you do what I asked you to do?"  
  
"Shackleton, when have I ever done what you asked me to do?"  
  
Robert struggled desperately to hold in the guffaw that wanted to escape at the look on the other man's face.  
  
"Robert, I gave you a direct order. Find out what happened to that kitten or I will need to bring your insubordination to the Headmaster's attention."  
  
When the other man stalked off without waiting for a witty retort, Binns scowled at his retreating back. When the other man began his descent of the main staircase, Binns regained some of his earlier good humor. Removing a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans from a pocket inside his robes, he emptied the bag's entire contents onto the other man's head as he passed underneath.  
  
"Bloody hell!"  
  
The sight of the many flavored beans cascading onto the Deputy Headmaster's head, the way they pinged off of him in any number of directions, the way he lost his footing and stumbled down two of the steps before being tossed back up them by the wards preventing anyone from falling down the staircases in the castle was too much for the History of Magic Professor. His guffaw could be contained no longer.  
  
He realized perhaps he should not have lingered so long to bask in Shackleton's reaction when the Deputy Headmaster looked up at him.  
  
"Robert?!"  
  
"Hooligans! It was hooligans. I saw them. There were hooligans."  
  
"Robert!"  
  
Hooligans! Hooligans!" Binns repeated as he beat a hasty escape down a different staircase back to his dungeon rooms.  
  
Almost there he turned his head to see if Shackleton was in pursuit and ran right into Head Boy Tom Riddle.  
  
"Do watch where you are going, Riddle!"  
  
Still looking over his shoulder, Binns pondered his options. He may have finally been too overt in his disrespect of the Deputy Headmaster. He looked appraisingly at young Riddle before concluding Shackleton would never believe Mr. Riddle was a hooligan and responsible for the incident on the staircase. Instead, he moved to his second plan.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, find the cat Mr. McGonagall left here. Speak to Deputy Headmaster Shackleton for the necessary address and owl it back to the McGonagall's. Be certain to mention I instructed you to do so."  
  
Binns thought nothing at the time of the way Mr. Riddle seemed to clutch the kitten in his arms closer after Binns's request. After all, by the size of it, that kitten clearly was not the same one. Although now that he thought about it, Mr. Riddle's familiar seemed no larger than the first time he noticed it in class a few weeks ago. Perhaps he should recommend Mr. Riddle take his familiar to be examined by Professor...Professor…well the one without all his fingers, whatever his name was. He was just about to do so when Mr. Riddle intruded upon his thoughts.  
  
"Not a problem, sir. I know exactly where the cat is and will have her owled out this afternoon."  
  
Binns beamed at the young man before continuing on to seek sanctuary in his private rooms.  
  
"Marvelous! Two points to Slytherin."  
  
############################################  
  
As soon as he entered the room, the young man set the gray and black kitten down on her pillow and moved to his writing desk. What he wrote was beyond the scope of vision of the one doing the observing. His words, however, were perfectly audible as he placed a gentle kiss on the already sleeping kitten before departing the room without her.  
  
"Don't worry, Kitten. You are mine now and I won't ever let anyone take you away from me."  
  
  
  
*********************************************  
  
###########################################  
  
He cringed at the recollections the tea cups brought to mind. It had been a long time since the young man had tried this spell. It wasn't that he had given up, but the gray and black kitten had demanded the vast majority of his time and attention since her arrival. It would seem that now that she had finally gotten her way and was no longer relegated to spending most of the day alone, she was willing to allow the young man some personal time.  
  
The lack of practice had done little more to improve his results than the period of constant practice had. No matter how many times the spell was attempted, the young man could only properly transfigure at best one animal each try.  
  
The cawing of the lion made the kitten's ears twitch. She picked up her head; the sleep entirely gone from her gray eyes as soon as she caught sight of the lion. That there was no tail to pounce on did not prevent the kitten from pouncing.  
  
The young man's control over the creatures was as imperfect as their transfigurations. The snake eyed the distracted kitten. As well formed as the snake was, it was still malformed enough that the young man's snake speak was useless against it. The young man grabbed the kitten by the loose flesh of her neck just as the snake struck.  
  
"Finite Incantatem!"  
  
Having darted off the table as a snake, one of the teacups shattered on the floor.  
  
"Reparo!"  
  
One hand kept the kitten on his lap by caressing her jaw line while the other still held his wand.  
  
"You stay here with me, Kitten. I won't have anything happening to you."  
  
So long as the hand was still working on her, the kitten was content to remain. The kitten watched intently as the young man repeated the spell.  
  
She appeared to realize it was the imperfections of the creatures that prevented her from being able to join the lion. On the young man's second attempt she did something. From up above the fireplace the room's third presence had a perfect view of the ongoings, but still couldn't determine what she had done. Whatever it was caused quite a reaction from the young man. He halted mid-incantation. The abruptness of his standing caused the little kitten to tumble to the carpet. The young man's voice, his whole body language was uncertain.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
His hand trailed through his hair.  
  
"You did that. But what was it?"  
  
The kitten was not at all pleased at being so unceremoniously unseated. She merely hissed in response to the questions.  
  
The young man frowned. His voice was slightly annoyed as he gently scooped her back up.  
  
"Don't hiss at me."  
  
His frown set in as she scraped her claws against him to more clearly demonstrate her displeasure with him, but he made no action against her. He merely accepted it as his penance. This time when he started the spell, he jerked slightly but remained seated and continued through the words.  
  
The abruptness of his standing made no difference to the kitten this time, as she had already left his lap to be closer to the lion. The young man watched her for a moment before he carefully inspected each of the other animals. Once the young man seemed confidant each was perfect, a smile lit his face. Returning his attentions to the small gray and black kitten, his smile lessened somewhat  
  
The kitten was still fascinated by the lion. Her attempts to mimic the lion's roars would have seemed darling to most, but apparently not to the young man. It was perchance his efforts in concentration, seeking to cease the antics that so captivated the little kitten, that marred his smile. The kitten waited expectantly for another roar, which was never to come.  
  
"Kitten, look at the snake. Never mind the silly lion. The snake is a far more interesting creature. They almost are like the houses they mean to represent. Lions try to be noble, but they really are quite simple, foolish even. Their every thought, their every action, predictable. But snakes, snakes are intriguing. You never really know what to expect with a snake. They truly are cunning."  
  
The kitten didn't appear to hold the young man's opinion in high regard. She remained fixated upon the lion. Only when the young man's snake speak persuaded the snake to slither around to her, did the kitten take notice of it. Her back arched and her hissing mixed well with the snake's. With a sigh, the young man ended the transfiguration and gathered the angry kitten in his arms.  
  
"Come on, Kitten. Bed time for you anyway."  
  
********************************************  
  
##########################################  
  
Albus Dumbledore patted the young Ravenclaw's hand comfortingly as he retrieved the button from her desk. Ever since her familiar had disappeared a few weeks ago, the young girl had been inconsolable. Cats were curious creatures and hers was known to often wander off for days at a time, but never had she been gone this long.  
  
The Hufflepuff next to her, Miss Bones took over trying to comfort her as Dumbledore moved past to collect the last few buttons. He had to stop himself from shaking his head as he collected Tom Riddle's button. By the way Tom's satchel shifted on his lap, it seemed obvious the boy had not paid attention to the assurances he gave weeks ago that while the transfigurations conducted in his classes were too brief to have any lasting effect on the subjects, no one was required to use his or her familiar for the experiments.  
  
As he moved up the last row, he felt a loss of his characteristic calm, watching Tom lean over in his seat to whisper something to the Ravenclaw girl across the way. Bad humor was for him infrequent and yet, more often than not when he did get irate, the cause was Tom Riddle. Though unable to hear the actual content of Tom's speech, Dumbledore could safely make certain assumptions based upon the girl's renewed sobbing.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, is there something you would like to share with the rest of us?"  
  
Tom Riddle faced him with a scowl. After giving Tom a warning look, Dumbledore continued his approach back to his owl desk. He was more than a little surprised when Tom actually answered him.  
  
"Yes, actually there is something I would like to show you."  
  
Facing the smug young man, Albus tried to mask his own uncertainty. What was Riddle up to?  
  
"Alright, Mr. Riddle. There are a few minutes left to class. You, I am sure, have all of our attentions."  
  
When Tom conjured four teacups at his desk, Dumbledore tensed and drew his own wand before allowing the boy to proceed. He was more than a little apprehensive about the close proximity of the other students to what he was sure would be a very unruly and very likely dangerous transfiguration.  
  
Dumbledore knew his students and he knew their abilities. Tom Riddle was a gifted young wizard with a remarkable amount of potential. He had made more than a fair amount of progress in his studies this year, especially in the past month or two. He was not, however, of sufficient ability to successfully complete and maintain this transfiguration. Of that Albus Dumbledore was as confidant as he was that his name was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and that his brother Aberforth's recent fourth marriage would end no better than the previous three had.  
  
Thus it was a few short words later, staring at flawless replicas of the four house mascots that with raised eyebrows, he briefly entertained the possibility that his name was really Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore or even Albus Brian Percival Wulfric Dumbledore, but surely not Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.  
  
Tom maintained the transformation with seemingly effortlessness for several minutes before ending it. By the time the clapping, cheering, and whistling of Tom's classmates died down to a respectable level, Albus still found the sight before him to be inconceivable. He knew his students' abilities. Only a few months ago Tom Riddle had been unable to approach anything even near the power and concentration required to successfully complete such a complex spell. He was ready to admit the boy had made extraordinary progress this year, most particularly within the past few weeks, but this kind of progress didn't take months or even years, it took decades. Such a progression in his powers in that short of a time period was, well he couldn't help but go back to that same word, inconceivable.  
  
He simply refused to concede it had occurred.  
  
The book satchel in Tom's lap kept moving. Apparently the loud cheering had made Tom's familiar discontent to remain in it.  
  
"Tom, I believe your cat wants to come out and see what all the commotion is for."  
  
He said it mostly to have something to say as his mind was whirling in so many directions trying to process what he had just seen. Something about the way Tom reacted to his words made all his thoughts stop whirling. The way Tom's arrogant smirk left, leaving in its place a far less comfortable expression, the way he shifted in his seat and held the satchel all the more tightly, all these things told Dumbledore to pursue this chain of conversation and action.  
  
"Tom, why don't you open your satchel and let your cat out?"  
  
"I need to get to Charms."  
  
Tom rose quickly without first pushing back his chair. He fell back into his seat as his knees knocked into the bottom of his desk.  
  
Dumbledore used his own wand to undo the binding keeping the satchel closed. As soon as the light was out of his wand a small gray and black kitten poked its head out. She hissed briefly and swatted at her tormentor before she nimbly leaped onto the desk to inspect the once again teacups.  
  
Albus marveled, watching her angrily swat at the teacups, one after another, until each lay shattered on the floor.  
  
"I've seen this kitten before, Mr. Riddle. Tell me, how did she come into your possession?"  
  
When Tom made no reply, Dumbledore was not entirely surprised.  
  
"Class dismissed."  
  
Riddle scooped up the kitten and made to dart to the door, but Dumbledore shook his head.  
  
"Not you, Mr. Riddle. You come with me."  
  
Leading the way down to the dungeons, Dumbledore could not help but repeatedly look over his shoulder, not quite believing what his eyes were seeing.  
  
At the door to the Potion Master's classroom Riddle asked a question.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Looking over his shoulder, seeing the desperate way Riddle held onto the little kitten, Dumbledore wondered just how knowledgeable Tom Riddle had become in the past few months.  
  
"I should be delighted to answer your question, Mr. Riddle, if you would care to answer mine."  
  
Seeing that Mr. Riddle had resolved not to be of any use in the matter, Dumbledore pushed open the door.  
  
Professor Pomfrey was using a long pointer to indicate something on the blackboard and called out without looking at who had just entered the classroom.  
  
"Ten points for every minute you were late to my class and a detention for interrupting everyone else's learning with your arrival."  
  
Dumbledore couldn't help his eyes from twinkling, despite the circumstances.  
  
"Tell me, Professor Pomfrey, how many detentions can I expect for not only interrupting your class, but asking you to dismiss your students entirely?"  
  
Pomfrey blushed as he ventured a glance to the doorway.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore, my apologies. Was there something I can be of assistance with?"  
  
"Indeed, I hope so. Would you be so kind as to send Miss Fawcett to get Professor Shackleton, Mr. Crouch to get the Headmaster, and Mr. Nott to get Mr. Riddle's Head of House? Oh, and to dismiss the rest of your class early?"  
  
Pomfrey frowned, but his class seemed delighted. Professor Dumbledore was popular in his own classes and it appeared he was now even more popular in Professor Pomfrey's class.  
  
"What ever it is, can't it wait? My class has only just begun."  
  
"No, I believe it has waited far too long already."  
  
With a sigh and a dismissive wave of his hand, Pomfrey's class erupted into cheers that rivaled those Tom Riddle had received only a few minutes earlier. As the last of the students exited the room, Dumbledore made another request of the other professor, "Do you have any mandrake potion?"  
  
Seeing the look that appeared briefly on the younger professor's face before he began to deny having any, it was Dumbledore's turn to wave a hand dismissively.  
  
"No, I - "  
  
"-Dippet only banned live mandrakes. He never said anything against cuttings or potions made from mandrakes."  
  
Trying not to appear too obvious, Pomfrey shrugged.  
  
"I may have a bit in my private stock. Let me go have a look."  
  
Tom Riddle again asked his question.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Dumbledore peered at Tom over the tops of his half-moon glasses.  
  
"Tell me, Mr. Riddle, have you noticed anything unusual about this kitten?"  
  
Tom's voice was cool as he replied.   
  
"I don't know what you mean, sir."  
  
"How long have you been in possession of this kitten, Mr. Riddle?"  
  
When Tom again refused to answer, Dumbledore went on without a response.  
  
"This kitten appears to be no more than four, maybe five weeks old. And yet, I would not be at all surprised if you were to tell me you have had the kitten for longer than that. You see Tom, I have seen this kitten before and if I am not mistaken, she is far older than four or five weeks, four or five months, or even four or five years."  
  
Tom outwardly appeared a great deal less calm as he repeated his earlier response.  
  
"I'm sure, I don't know what you mean, sir."  
  
Watching the way the young man refused to meet his eyes, he very much doubted that was true.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, if I discover you were aware of this and kept quiet, if I find even the slightest evidence -"  
  
"Here we go, one vial of mandrake potion. Only three or four drops are necessary. So what did Riddle manage to do to himself that you can't undo? Not that I'm surprised, that boy is completely useless in my class. He has gone through more cauldrons in a month than I have gone thr-"  
  
Dumbledore silenced the younger professor with only a look. Despite his own misgivings about Tom Riddle, he would not tolerate a fellow professor berating the abilities of any of the students. Rather than appear grateful for the intervention, Riddle appeared more incensed.  
  
"It isn't for Tom, it is for the kitten."  
  
"That does surprise me. In my class he's always careful not to let his familiar get in the way of his detonating cauldrons. What did he do to the kitten?"  
  
Ignoring his younger colleague, Dumbledore held out a hand for the kitten. When Tom didn't turn the kitten over, he frowned.  
  
"Tom, don't make this harder than it has to be."  
  
"She belongs to me. I won't let you have her."  
  
"Tom, if what I believe is true, she most definitely does not belong to you. If I am in error, the potion will have no harmful effects on her. Mandrake potion is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."  
  
"Oh for Merlin's sake, just give him the bloody kitten and get on with it!" Demanded a newly arrived Professor Binns standing awkwardly in the doorway next to the Deputy Headmaster.  
  
An irritated Professor Shackleton made inquires while moving into the classroom. "What was so important that Binns and I needed to dismiss our classes?"  
  
"Oh please, what are you talking about? It's not like you teach anything of value."  
  
Shackleton appeared to have had enough from the History of Magic instructor.  
  
"For the love of Merlin, would you be quiet for once, Binns!"  
  
Reluctantly, Tom set the kitten on the table. The kitten looked confusedly back at her former holder.  
  
Dumbledore poured milk from his wand tip into a dish. After adding a few drops of the potion, he attempted to entice the kitten to drink it. When the kitten ignored his entreaties and began licking her paws, grooming herself instead, Tom smirked again.  
  
"She doesn't like you. She doesn't trust you. She won't take anything you offer."  
  
Conceding the truth of Tom's words, Dumbledore apologized in advance.  
  
"I do sincerely apologize for such ungentlemanly treatment."  
  
Putting one hand under her chin, he used his fingers to pry open her mouth. Even before the other hand approached with the vial, the kitten became distressed.  
  
"Stop it, you are frightening her!"  
  
Her teeth clamped down on the intruding fingers. Her claws protracted to gash the skin of the hand with the vial.  
  
"Don't you hurt her!"  
  
Watching the flesh on his hands be divided by the sharp claws, Dumbledore thought perhaps a request that she not hurt him would be more appropriate. Still, he choose to ignored Riddle's outburst. He persisted in trying to get the vial into her mouth, but as he went to tip some of the contents into her mouth, a particularly vicious assault caused him to drop the vial. Even with the vial shattered on the table and no longer a concern, the kitten boldly stepped over the shards to persevere in fully demonstrating her displeasure with the retreating Transfiguration Professor.  
  
Dumbledore could not help but notice the pleased grin on Tom Riddle's face as the gray and black kitten added more scratches to his already heavily bleeding hands until he was out of her range.  
  
Binns couldn't keep the mirth from his voice when he spoke.  
  
"Alright Dumbledore, you were right. That was worth canceling my classes to see. I thank you for sending for me. Now if that is all, I will be heading back upstairs."  
  
Riddle too sought an out.  
  
"I'm very late for Charms class. Professor Shackleton, may my kitten and I be excused?"  
  
Dumbledore shook his head in response.  
  
"I don't think she actually drank any of it. Pomfrey, do you have any more of the mandrake potion?"  
  
"Mandrake potion? What exactly are you trying for here?"  
  
Taking a second vial from Pomfrey, Dumbledore replied, "Patience, Shacklebolt."  
  
Determined, Dumbledore again moved into range of the hissing, spitting kitten. He disregarded Binns's suggestion and the Deputy Headmaster's responding glare.  
  
"Now, now Dumbledore. Why don't you let Shackleton have a go at her?"  
  
He paid no mind to the wounds on his hands and arms; having a phoenix for a familiar had its advantages. This time, despite the kitten's considerable efforts, he was confident he had managed to get some of the contents of the vial into her mouth. He massaged her throat to induce her to swallow.  
  
"Whatever are you doing to that kitten?"  
  
Armando Dippet wandered into the classroom just in time to see the hissing, spitting little kitten transform into a hissing, spitting little girl. 


	28. Chapter 28

A/N Thank you Maria aka Minerva Dumbledore1 for being my beta. Special thanks for going over all of this chapter twice and some parts no less than three times. Any remaining errors are things I added after I sent Maria the supposed 'final' draft.  
  
If you are reading, please review. It tends to speed my writing and posting along.  
  
Keep in mind that these memories were put together many years after the events occurred. Therefore though Dumbledore now has knowledge about things other people did and their thoughts, he did not have that knowledge during the memories he narrates.  
  
Also don't forget that a narrator's perspective on events and what they chose to notice is slightly skewed by their own expectations and personality. It's not so obvious now but there will be chapters where I will show you the same event from two different perspectives that will seem like two entirely different events in their interpretation.  
  
And before anyone thinks Dippet doesn't like Dumbledore that's not true. He just has a slightly different, older perspective on things. Being as he is over 200 years old and Dumbledore is under 100, he tends to lump Dumbledore into the 'foolish young person' category.  
  
  
  
#### reflects a change in narrator  
  
**** a lapse in time. Can be as little time as it takes to travel from one room to another.  
  
******************************************  
  
"Whatever are you doing to that kitten?"  
  
Armando Dippet wandered into the classroom just in time to see the hissing, spitting kitten transform into a hissing, spitting little girl.  
  
No one said a word for several minutes. Even though it was what he had expected, the actual reality of it still came as a shock to Albus Dumbledore. After a moment, he recovered enough to look at the others. His fellow professors certainly looked surprised enough. Pomfrey kept blinking. Binns looked like he was stuttering without any sound actually being produced. Shackleton was clutching his chest as if he were having a heart attack. Dippet was frowning. He looked more disappointed than surprised. Any questions about the reason for Armando Dippet's reaction left Dumbledore's mind with one glance at Tom Riddle's face. The expression of surprise on Tom's face looked too calculated, too insincere.  
  
Putting his suspicions aside for the moment to deal with the more important matter, Dumbledore again faced the little girl. This time he really examined her. She wore the same white cotton nightdress, a little worse for wear, that she had on the last time he had seen her. A bit of blood was spattered on it, but it was likely his own. She had clearly grown a few inches, as it didn't reach as far as it once had. Her black hair was longer and in need of a trim to even it out. The complete lack of tangles made him again suspect Riddle of having known, but the meticulous way cats groomed themselves offered doubt to that idea.  
  
When he took a step closer to her, the renewed hissing advised him to step back. Dumbledore was more than a little grateful when even without having been summoned, Fawkes arrived in the dungeon. As soon as his wounds were healed, the phoenix eyed the girl suspiciously and flew away.  
  
After another minute of the girl's continued hissing, Armando Dippet asked the question surely everyone in the room was wondering.  
  
"She has been transfigured by Grindelwald to live as a kitten for months now. What effect would that have on her mind?"  
  
Dumbledore furrowed his brow.  
  
"Human transfigurations aren't meant to be maintained that long. Anything past a few days, the subject can begin to permanently take on the characteristics, instincts and behaviors of the resulting animal. The effects on the human mind from this long of a transfiguration, well its not something previously researched. Ethically speaking, its just not possible to research."  
  
Armando Dippet frowned. "I was in my animagus form for days before the fire at the Ministry of Magic went out and it was safe to change back. Grant you, I tend to sit a tad closer to a warm fire than I used to, but I considered that more to do with advancing age than-"  
  
Dumbledore interrupted. "Animagi are something slightly different."  
  
Pomfrey swallowed compulsively before speaking quietly.  
  
"I'll go get Madame Griselda."  
  
Dippet made another inquiry.  
  
"Minerva as a kitten belonged to Mr. Riddle, I take it?"  
  
Her name is 'Kitten'."  
  
Dippet seemed to take Riddle's response as an affirmative.  
  
"Well Mr. Riddle, why don't you see if you can get her to settle down."  
  
Tom looked uncertain for a moment, but the girl allowed him to pick her up off the table. Her hissing ended when he began to stroke her long hair. By the time the aged school nurse arrived, Tom was seated with the young girl settled in his lap.  
  
"Madame Griselda."  
  
The nurse nodded to the headmaster and then stared, puzzled at the young girl.  
  
"How? Who? I don't understand."  
  
Dumbledore spoke up.  
  
"It would seem Grindelwald or one of his house elves transfigured his daughter into a kitten to evade Ministry capture. We want you to examine her and tell us what if any harm it has caused."  
  
Seeing that did nothing to clear up the matter for the woman, Dumbledore went on.  
  
"I don't think any of us really understands it. She stepped on some broken glass. You might want to start with her pa-well hands and feet."  
  
Madame Griselda gave her most reassuring smile as she slowly approached the young girl. Apparently it was not reassuring enough because as Headmaster Dippet tried to calmly explain to the young lady what was going on, Minerva became unsettled again.  
  
"Madame Griselda is going to examine you. Not to worry, she is the school nurse -"  
  
The gray eyes lit up suddenly at the Headmaster's words. The school nurse cried out in pain as the young girl bit the hand that was examining her. Again hissing, the young girl moved nimbly from Riddle's lap to a counter and onto the top of a cabinet before anyone could stop her.  
  
"She bit me!"  
  
When the young girl began raining the various potion bottles that were stored on top of the cabinet down on the nurse below, the long suffering Madame Griselda had finally had enough.  
  
"You need someone from the Ministry's Beast Division, not a nurse!"  
  
Shortly after she departed, the uncertain looking Care of Magical Creatures Professor arrived.  
  
"Nurse Griselda told me to come here? Someone let one of my hippogriffs loose in the dungeons?"  
  
Headmaster Dippet nodded.  
  
"Master Kettleburn, we could use your expertise. Can you get the girl to come down?"  
  
Kevric Kettleburn's eyes traveled in the direction Dippet was looking.  
  
"What's the problem?"  
  
"She thinks she is a housecat."  
  
Kettleburn observed the hissing child for a few moments before he managed to make eye contact with her. When Kettleburn bowed formally to the girl, Dumbledore wondered if the other professor had not realized the hippogriff comment was sarcastic. Still, he supposed, anything was worth a try.  
  
The try did not appear to be working. When Kettleburn picked up a stool and moved closer, the girl changed from hisses to growls and roars.  
  
Kettleburn paused a moment before picking up the long pointer Pomfrey had been using earlier. The stool he had been bringing over to the cabinet to step on to reach the girl now found a new use. The Care of Magical Creatures professor wielded it in front of himself like a lion tamer while gently prodding the roaring girl with the stick.  
  
"Back, back I say!"  
  
Dumbledore stared at the young man in wonder. He was about to ask just what exactly he was trying to accomplish when the most unexpected thing happened. The little girl started giggling.  
  
"I was only pretending to be a lion!"  
  
Kettleburn winked at the stunned group around him before feigning shock.  
  
"You mean you really aren't a lion?"  
  
After a few more giggles, the little girl corrected him.  
  
"I am a kitten!"  
  
"Oh, I see."  
  
Kettleburn gave an unknowing shrug to the rest of his audience. It was still far more progress than anyone else had made.  
  
The girl's mouth opened wide again, but what Dumbledore thought was going to be another roar was really a yawn. The giggling had settled down now that Kettleburn had stopped his antics. The girl's attention turned to more serious matters.  
  
"Where is my lunch? My Tom usually feeds me by now."  
  
"Are you ready to come down now?"  
  
When young Minerva made no negative remarks to Dippet's question, Kettleburn put the stool to his original intended use. She allowed him to lift her down. Dumbledore made the same request of the Care of Magical Creatures Professor as he had of the school nurse.  
  
"Kettleburn, check her hands and feet for cuts."  
  
The girl hissed when Kettleburn tried to examine her, but he just hissed back and began to tickle her. After a few moments of giggling and wriggling combined with a cleansing charm, Kettleburn pronounced his judgment.  
  
"Some dried blood, but no broken skin."  
  
Dippet nodded.  
  
"Let us go to my office and have lunch there."  
  
Tom Riddle stepped forward to reclaim the young girl now that she was down. The girl, still in Kettleburn's grasp, held out her arms to her former owner indicating he should again carry her. After Dippet's nod in response to Kettleburn's questioning glance, the girl was transferred back. Dumbledore found the affectionate way Riddle received the girl unsettling.  
  
As Riddle passed him to follow Dippet out the door, young Minerva wrapped her arms around Tom's neck and hissed at Dumbledore. Riddle's smirk in response and the tightening of his protective hold on the girl did nothing to allay Dumbledore's concerns.  
  
Dumbledore put a hand on the Care of Magical Creatures Professor's arm to get him to pause.  
  
"How did you know she was pretending?"  
  
Kettleburn explained it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"Housecats can't roar. Only the larger Panthera genus roar"  
  
Leaving the Potion's Master to deal with the cleanup, the other professors left.  
  
#######################################  
  
Pomfrey whistled, surveying the damage to his classroom. What a day! None of the potions from the shelf the girl had perched on were salvageable. A more than decent amount of blood was pooled on the floor and trailed to the shelf. He knew what blood allowed to set for too long attracted, so he quickly began the work of banishing the stains.  
  
Even with repeated castings of 'Scourgify,' some of the blood refused to come off. He gave up on the most persistent of the stains as the first of his last class of the afternoon arrived. Maybe the Red Caps would have better luck than him.  
  
At least he would have one hell of a story to tell at the Three Broomsticks later this evening.  
  
*****************************************  
  
#######################################  
  
Once in his office, Dippet's wand provided chairs for all present. Minerva ignored the chairs and remained with Riddle instead. Seeing the way Minerva curled up comfortably on Tom's lap even in girl form, Dumbledore could contain his questions no longer.  
  
"Tell me Tom, how long have you been aware your cat wasn't really a cat?"  
  
Before Tom could again deny the allegation, Armando Dippet interrupted in an unusually hesitant fashion.  
  
"Let us not dwell upon who knew what when. There are matters of far greater concern now."  
  
Following this statement Dippet waved his wand to produce a tray of sandwiches. When the Headmaster attempted to offer the girl a sandwich she turned her head away. Riddle intercepted it and after taking a bite offered it to the girl.  
  
She regarded Tom for a moment before taking a tentative bite. Dumbledore wondered briefly if she would spit it out given the look on her face. Instead, she returned it to Tom with a slight hiss.  
  
Binns snorted.  
  
"My thoughts on these sandwiches exactly!"  
  
Shackleton's dark look had no effect on Binns's smirk so the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor tried to show influence elsewhere.  
  
"Maybe she is thirsty?"  
  
Another wave of Dippet's wand produced two glasses of pumpkin juice for the children and tea service for the adults.  
  
"Kitten always makes me sample anything before she will try it."  
  
Dippet nodded and didn't even bother to offer the juice directly to the girl.  
  
Tom took one glass for the girl, but declined the second.  
  
"I would prefer tea."  
  
Even with Tom sampling the juice twice, the girl wrinkled her nose at the offering.  
  
Dumbledore frowned, considering the things he had seen.  
  
"How much does she remember? Does she think it is poisoned?"  
  
He realized his error in speaking in front of her when Minerva Grindelwald turned sharply at his words. Whether she remembered before or not, his question had either revived some memory or introduced the idea to her. When Kettleburn paused in the raising of his teacup to his lips in order to speak, she turned her attentions to him.  
  
"Or maybe she just doesn't like pumpkin juice."  
  
"Personally, I find pumpkin juice to be almost as foul as Sha-"  
  
Binns was startled into silence by the girl's next actions.  
  
She moved quickly to tear the teacup out of Kettleburn's hand and smash it to the floor. Not quite knowing what to do, no one stopped her as she made the rounds smashing the teacups that people were holding.  
  
Binns recovered his ability to speak and even went one better. He smashed his own teacup before she could get to it.  
  
"Jolly good fun!"  
  
Dumbledore was still staring at his older colleague when the quiet hissing announced her presence before him. While she could speak it seemed clear this was her preferred communication method. He regarded her over his half-moon glasses. Though she would not get close enough to take the cup from him, he chose to take it as a good sign that despite his actions earlier she was still trying to warn him away from drinking the tea. After a moment's thought he followed Binns's lead.  
  
She moved on to smashing the items still on the tea tray. Only when just the creamer remained was she truly appeased. She handed it to Tom expectantly before climbing back into his lap. It would seem like most, cats she was unable to resist a container of milk.  
  
Rising from his seat, Dumbledore remembered other obligations.  
  
"I need to owl Moody and the Ministry."  
  
Dippet rose and motioned him to be seated again.  
  
"Let us not be hasty."  
  
Dumbledore of course knew what the Sorting Hat was for, but he still couldn't stop himself from asking as the Headmaster took it out.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Dippet shrugged but did not look him in the face while he responded.  
  
"She is a child. This is a school. She has no family to speak of. Can you think of a better place for her?"  
  
Even knowing the matter was nowhere near that simple, Dumbledore still didn't know what to say. The Sorting was over before he could even think of a response or a rebuttal. Dippet barely even had the aged hat over the girl's head before it made its announcement.  
  
"I stand by my earlier decision - Slytherin!"  
  
Leaving the hat in place, Dippet then asked a question not usually asked of the Sorting Hat.  
  
"Tell me the why?"  
  
The hat's response was without hesitation.  
  
"Helga prizes loyalty and she hasn't got enough yet. She is clever enough, but Rowena despises cats. She is certainly fearless and foolish enough for Godric to want her, but most of all she embodies Salazar's trait. Those cunning folks use any means to achieve their ends."  
  
The girl seemed unfazed by this pronouncement. Finished with the milk, she gave another yawn before knocking the hat off during a stretch. She shifted Tom's arm and used it as a cushion when she laid across the chair. Tom gently stroked her hair with his free hand until she drifted to sleep.  
  
While the girl was unfazed, Armando Dippet seemed quite disturbed. His face held a concerned, thoughtful look as he spoke softly to the sleeping girl.  
  
"Then perhaps the answer is to ensure the ends you desire are not something the rest of us cannot content ourselves to live with."  
  
After a long period of uncomfortable silence, Dumbledore again rose.  
  
"We really should contact the Ministry. They will wonder why we waited so long."  
  
This time Dippet sighed but his only attempt to stop him was a few cryptic words.  
  
"Master Dumbledore, I can only hope you come to understand before all is lost that the things we need to do are not always the things we should do."  
  
Shackleton added on a bit of his own wisdom which thankfully was not so indecipherable.  
  
"If what Dumbledore suggested on the walk here is true, and from what we have seen I see no reason to doubt it…well, than I'm sure the Ministry will be thrilled to learn of this what with the way they have been telling everyone for the last eight years that all the Themis are dead."  
  
Binns scowled at the sleeping child.  
  
"Now I have to update my lecture!"  
  
Shackleton rubbed the bridge of his nose while staring at Binns.  
  
"Come along Dumbledore. My office is on the Floo network. You can use my fireplace to contact the Ministry."  
  
##############################################  
  
Armando Dippet sighed listening to the others. When Shackleton made his offer to Dumbledore, Dippet made no further attempts to ward off what was to come.  
  
"After you contact the Ministry you may return to your afternoon classes."  
  
In order to leave the young Transfiguration Master with no room for doubt, Dippet added a few more words.  
  
"Both of you."  
  
Binns rose as well.  
  
"Yes, I too have classes to teach."  
  
"Not today, Master Binns."  
  
Watching the History of Magic Master squirm, he went on.  
  
"Go leave notice on your classroom door that the remainder of your classes are cancelled. Then go to the dungeons and find a room for Miss Grindelwald. It would be wise to keep her a bit segregated from the other children. This year's Head Girl is a Hufflepuff so prepare the Slytherin Head Girl's room for Miss Grindelwald's use."  
  
He didn't even bother to attempt to make out the words Binns mumbled under his breath during his departure. He briefly considered the remaining adult in the room.  
  
"Master Kettleburn, you appear to have established a rapport with the girl. Leave notice canceling your classes as well, and then go to the History of Magic classroom. You will find Master Binns hiding behind a stack of books. Assist him in his preparation of the room for the girl's use."  
  
Kettleburn nodded.  
  
"Shall I take the girl, Minerva or Kitten, with me now?"  
  
Dippet shook his head.  
  
"Mr. Riddle and Master Dumbledore will escort her down shortly."  
  
Kettleburn paused.  
  
"You told Dumbledore not to return."  
  
Armando Dippet sighed again. He was old but he wasn't so old that he couldn't remember what he had said only moments before.  
  
"Master Kettleburn, I think you will shortly find it quite apparent that Master Dumbledore is under the misbegotten impression that he knows best about all things. Why you young people behave so foolishly is beyond me."  
  
Kettleburn didn't offer any further challenges. He just nodded and departed as requested.  
  
Dippet examined the young man that remained appraisingly. He knew there was not much time for contemplation. The Ministry's response would be swift.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, I know that you know things."  
  
He frowned as Riddle began to protest his innocence.  
  
"Do not bother to deny it to me. We do not have the luxury of time for that. I am sure by now, you have noticed things about young Minerva -"  
  
"Kitten, her name is Kitten."  
  
Rather than waste what precious little time remained, Dippet acquiesced.  
  
"Kitten. Now kindly do not argue or interrupt. I am certain by now you have noticed things about young Kitten. It would be in neither her best interests nor our own to share that information with the Ministry."  
  
He paused a costly moment to allow his words to penetrate. When Riddle gave a guarded nod he continued.  
  
"Should anyone inquire, you have noticed an odd prescience about her. She tends to respond to things before they occur."  
  
Following a slight nod of understanding, Dippet resumed.  
  
"Do not concern yourself with Master Dumbledore. I will deal with him and the Ministry. When they arrive remain silent unless spoken to, irregardless of what is said. Keep Kitten with you and do not permit her to misbehave.  
  
The girl trusts you. You will continue as her primary custodian. You must not allow others to handle the girl. If others were to become aware of her abilities, the consequences would be most -"  
  
Dippet reigned in his words as the sound of heavy footsteps approached. Surely steps so boisterous on the revolving staircase to his office could only belong to a large group of Ministry officials. Even the sleeping child awoke to regard the door as it flung open.  
  
Dippet was surprised to discover instead the young groundskeeper's assistant carrying his toad. With a smile Armando Dippet greeted Mr. Keys.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Hagrid. In all the day's excitement I fear I had forgotten about you, Mr. Keys. An intolerable oversight I am sure."  
  
While the presence of a child at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was not at all unusual, having one so young as Miss Grindelwald was not a normal occurrence. This peculiarity did not escape Mr. Hagrid.  
  
"Well 'ello there."  
  
The girl regarded Mr. Hagrid for a moment before returning the greeting minus the accent.  
  
"Hello."  
  
"My name is Rubeus. What's yers?"  
  
There was no hesitation after the first exchange.  
  
"Kitten."  
  
"Eh?"  
  
Quickly Hagrid realized that was not the most polite response and attempted to make amends.  
  
"That's a right pretty name fer a right pretty girl."  
  
As young Kitten Grindelwald corrected Mr. Hagrid, Dippet began to speculate that perhaps the reason Miss Grindelwald had not been more vocal earlier had something to do with the fact that the adults for the most part had been talking about her rather than to her.  
  
"I am a kitten."  
  
Still her words, now that she chose to use them to communicate, lacked a certain reassurance in their content. Placid Mr. Hagrid wisely chose not to engage the girl in debate.  
  
"Eh well being as yer a kitten than I would say deh name Kitten would just about cover it."  
  
Looking back to the girl to see if she would add anything further to the conversation, Dippet realized her attention had moved on. Armando Dippet was a gifted Seer but even one of the Blind could see what was about to happen. The sandwiches may not have done anything to interest the girl's appetite but the same could not be said of the room's more recent addition.  
  
"Mr. Hagrid, please return to your other duties at this time."  
  
With another glance at the way the eyes of the girl who believed she was a kitten trailed Mr. Keys's every movement, Dippet added a second instruction.  
  
"Please keep Mr. Keys with you as you do your afternoon tasks. I will call upon you later to retrieve him."  
  
Mr. Hagrid frowned and clutched Mr. Keys protectively after also noticing where the girl's attention was. With a curt nod he departed.  
  
Mr. Riddle did not appear to make the connection.  
  
Dippet's aspirations of a few more minutes alone with Mr. Riddle were short lived as Master Dumbledore returned, followed only moments later by an out of breath young Mr. Moody.  
  
"I don't bloody believe it! I cast on that kitten a dozen times! Any idea what curse Grindelwald used?"  
  
Dippet shrugged honestly not knowing or caring.  
  
"Either Grindelwald was so much more powerful than you that you could not reverse his spell, or perhaps when he had custody of your wand he did something to cease its being operational."  
  
Mr. Moody frowned.  
  
"Something did happen to my wand, but it was after I got it back. It worked fine for a while, but when I tried to help Turpin…. Grindelwald had so many traps in the house we never figured out what happened to the wand."  
  
Any further considerations of the 'how' were interrupted by the arrival of several other Ministry representatives, including the Minister of Magic himself.  
  
Dippet nodded to the new arrivals.  
  
"Minister Augustus."  
  
The Minister ignored the greeting and stared intensely at the young girl. Thankfully the young girl did not hiss, but rather just stared back. After a moment the Minister turned his look of wrath to young auror Moody.  
  
"Well this is a fine mess you have gotten us into."  
  
Mr. Moody blushed furiously, but clearly knew better than to try to defend himself.  
  
Minister Augustus soon turned his attentions back to the girl. He motioned to two of the hit wizards that had accompanied him.  
  
"Take the girl. We will sort this out at Azkaban."  
  
Were the matter not so grave, Dippet would have scoffed to see Master Dumbledore finally realize the consequences of his haste. The look on Master Dumbledore's face was inestimable. Nor did the tightening of Riddle's hold upon the girl escape his attention.  
  
"Azkaban? How can you possibly conceive of taking a child to such a place?"  
  
Clearly Master Dumbledore had underestimated - or perhaps the better word was overestimated - the temperance of the man before them. Really, what had Master Dumbledore expected from the man who had fortified himself in an office in fear for his own life rather than do anything of use to unearth the assailant that had terrorized the Wizarding World for years?  
  
Minister Augustus snorted.  
  
"Child? That would hardly be the first word I would chose to describe that monstrosity. The Ministry needs to find out exactly what we are dealing with here. Dumbledore you were there the night Grindelwald was taken into custody. You saw the things she did. Grindelwald was a mad man. Merlin knows what else he taught her. I have full confidence that Azkaban will be the ultimate destination for her."  
  
Dumbledore again tried to intervene.  
  
"She only did those spells under Grindelwald's direct orders. Surely the Ministry cannot -"  
  
Dippet had no more interest in hearing the remainder of Master Dumbledore's protest than did the Minister of Magic himself. Master Dumbledore's look of outrage at both the interruption and Dippet's words faded, to be replaced with a guarded look of comprehension as Dippet continued speaking.  
  
"Quite right, Minister Augustus. The Ministry does need to determine exactly what we are dealing with. You have been informed, I am sure, that she has been transfigured for many months now into the form of a cat. So far we have had no indication at all that she has any recollection of past events that have transpired."  
  
Dippet's pause was so slight as to go unnoticed by the Ministry officials. It was more than enough however, for Master Dumbledore to meet his eyes and silently agree to leave the statement unchallenged. Thankfully, Master Dumbledore's Gryffindor sensibilities were now being reigned in by his common sense, so Dippet continued.  
  
"If I may be so bold as to make a suggestion, Hogwarts would be much better suited to determining precisely what skills the girl may have cultivated from Grindelwald. Leave her here and let us handle the matter. We shall enroll her in classes and determine precisely what knowledge she possesses."  
  
The Minister appeared to consider the matter for a brief moment before dismissing the idea as outrageous.  
  
"Far too dangerous, Dippet. You of all people should know that, given your experiences with her grandmother."  
  
With a suppressed sigh, Dippet moved on to his second point of argument.  
  
"Certainly it would not do to take her to Azkaban. It would after all be difficult to explain the cause of a child's presence there without giving a detailed explanation, including a public recognition by the Ministry of its error in having denied her very existence for years now. A matter certainly better left until after this year's elections. Don't you agree Minister?"  
  
How he despised playing at politics. Despite Dippet's best efforts to keep his tone as lacking in presumption as possible, the Minister's nostrils still flared along with his temper.  
  
"Are you threatening me Dippet?"  
  
"Certainly not Minister Augustus. I merely wish to ensure you move ahead in this with a carefully thought out strategy. It really does not do to move hastily without thinking out the consequences of our actions."  
  
Dippet noted the way Dumbledore flinched in response to his words. In a seemingly eager to please tone, Dippet continued speaking.  
  
"Leave the girl here for now. The arrangements for her stay are already complete. Allow her to remain here while you give the matter the diligent consideration it deserves. Your decision today need not be absolute."  
  
That the Minister appeared to be irresolute was to Dippet's mind a good sign.  
  
"I can assure you the matter will be kept confidential by myself, as well as Misters Dumbledore and Riddle. Mister Moody and these other gentlemen are under your authority."  
  
Dippet's assessment of the Minister of Magic as a man always willing to take the easiest way out of a quandary was not at all misguided.  
  
"This arrangement is only temporary, Armando. And if word gets out I will hold you personally responsible."  
  
Dippet nodded his understanding. Again he attempted to keep his tenor innocent as he made another suggestion.  
  
"It might attract attention having a large group of aurors at the school, not to mention the Minister of Magic himself. Might I suggest you return to the Ministry and leave behind one or perhaps two aurors to arrange security matters?"  
  
The Minister's suspicious glance made Dippet fear he had finally gone too far. But after a moment, Minister Augustus gave a brusque nod.  
  
Not surprisingly, Mr. Moody was the first to volunteer to remain. Minister Augustus's answer was somewhat lacking in civility.  
  
"I would expect so, Moody. After the way you fouled this entire matter, you should be grateful I don't send you to Azkaban!"  
  
The second man to stay behind was not a man to whom Dippet had yet been introduced. Nevertheless, the man's habit of wearing a hat even indoors in an attempt to hide from view the series of ghastly scars on the back of his neck left no doubt as to his identity.  
  
Once the Minister and his entourage left, Dippet found there were still too many people remaining in his office for his liking. Presently he had the desire to be in private with only one of the gentlemen.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, please take Miss Grindelwald down to the dungeons and acquaint her with her new rooms. After I speak to the aurors I will select one of the elves to assist Miss Grindelwald."  
  
Mr. Riddle's confidence in him appeared to be waning.  
  
"I can take care of her."  
  
"And you will, Mr. Riddle. There are however some tasks for which you are ill-suited to be of assistance."  
  
The boy certainly had a short fuse, but then the day's events had been quite stressful.  
  
"Headmaster, you promised me-"  
  
Armando Dippet sighed.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, I hardly think it would be appropriate for you to handle Miss Grindelwald's bath, dressing, and other such matters."  
  
Thankfully, after only a second Mr. Riddle realized the validity of his statement.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
With Mr. Riddle's leaving, Master Dumbledore was not of a mind to remain either.  
  
"I will accompany Miss Grindelwald and Mr. Riddle."  
  
Not surprisingly now that Mr. Moody had finally located Miss Grindelwald, he was loathe to let her out of his sight. His words were hardly out of his mouth before he was out of the door.  
  
"Loki, I'll keep an eye on the girl, you set up the security measures with the Headmaster."  
  
Once alone with the older auror, Dippet could no longer restrain his curiosity.  
  
"You will remove your hat while in my office."  
  
The auror hesitated only a moment before complying with a roguish grin.  
  
  
  
"I am aware that the Ministry employs a number of people who are not, shall we say, the best and the brightest. Still Mr. Loki, tell me exactly how you managed to get that past a room full of aurors and hit wizards?"  
  
Mr. Loki's boyish grin did not at all match with his shortened silver hair.  
  
"It's just Loki. No Mr."  
  
Loki shrugged and ran a hand along the scars on the back of his neck before offering an explanation as to why none of the Ministry people had figured out why the young girl's touch had caused the burns that had later formed the scars. As he began to speak his grin quickly disappeared.  
  
"You should have seen the looks I was getting. I thought I was done for until Minerva 'disappeared' from her room leaving only her 'kitten' behind. Everybody had a different idea about what had happened to her.  
  
One of the wizards, Turpin, he started taking books off of the shelves in Grindelwald's study. He thought there might be a hidden passage behind the paneling. One of the books, when he touched it, his hand started to burn. He tried to put the book down, but he couldn't. The burning, it wouldn't stop. There was nothing we could do, it just kept spreading all over him until… one of the others accidentally brushed up against him. Whatever it was, it spread to him as well."  
  
Loki sighed before continuing.  
  
"Did you know Grindelwald practiced axinomancy? MacDougal picked up his hatchet to break down what we thought was a false wall. You would have thought that the hatchet had a life of its own. I refuse to believe MacDougal ever would have of his own volition…  
  
Even before that, Perks tried to see if any of the wands were salvageable. She wanted to use one of his sideromancy irons to sift through the ashes in the fireplace. Myrrdhin's beard! She used to have the most beautiful eyes."  
  
Loki broke off, unable to continue. After a moment he rubbed his own scars and continued on a different thread.  
  
"Suffice it to say, Grindelwald was not keen on other people handling his belongings. The idea that Grindelwald put a charm on the child wasn't such a stretch for anyone to believe. I wasn't even the one to suggest it"  
  
Not knowing quite what to say, Dippet merely nodded. He knew in time the other man would begin to talk again.  
  
"I know you probably think it callous of me, what I did with the child. I couldn't think of what else to do. I knew if I left her at the house sooner or later someone would figure it out and the mood those people were in that night… I couldn't very well keep her myself. What kind of life would that have been? Children need love and affection. Touch is such an important part of that."  
  
Loki shook his head.   
  
"I left her at a muggle animal shelter. The people seemed nice."  
  
Loki's next words came out fervently.  
  
"I made sure before I left her there that it was a no kill shelter. They assured me that a kitten that cute would be easy to place. She seemed so content just going about her kitten business."  
  
His grin had reappeared.  
  
"The Fates would certainly appear lined up against me. How the devil did she end up back here?"  
  
Dippet knew despite the question Loki did not actually expect an answer. The man's skill at having a conversation entirely by himself was quite staggering.  
  
"Do you really think you can keep her here? I mean even if the Ministry doesn't interfere - which would be an amazing feat by itself. Do you really think it wise to keep her here around all these other people? Around children?"  
  
This was a topic Dippet did not care to dwell upon.  
  
"You are aware then about the protections set upon children of the line. To be honest, I'm not sure how much things will effect her. Through the ages the spell or spells have tended to wear off. Usually the mother would cast spells for reinforcement, but somehow I don't think Artemisia got around to that.  
  
If the protections do remain on her, skin piercing will heal without aid. Harmful spells cast against her will be deflected, which can be a dangerous circumstance in a magical school with children going around jinxing one another all the time. The protections will begin to fade as she gets closer to being of age, the enchantments are only intended to protect a child until she is capable of defending herself."  
  
Armando Dippet already knew all of this. Even as a child Artemisia had not been the most well adjusted person. She had taken great delight in exploring the boundaries of the protective spells. More than once he had discovered her deliberately piercing her own skin to watch the wound seal itself as soon as the offending object was removed.  
  
"I have had some experience in the matter before."  
  
Loki nodded. His face expressed a fierce internal conflict before he spoke again.  
  
"Do you know how to stop the girl if she gets out of hand? It is useless if she has already done something, but if you catch her when she is just beginning something…"  
  
It was Dippet's turn to nod. He had long ago learned the secret weakness of the line of Themis, the way to temporarily render them as weak as any other wand-less witch or wizard. It was certainly the only useful thing to be learned from Artemisia's disturbing habit.  
  
  
  
"Well I don't really know what to tell you about security measures beyond what the school already has. Which is assuming they are even strong enough to hold her."  
  
Dippet found it to be time to carefully broach the topic that was likely to cause the most trouble.  
  
"Will the Ministry be sending anyone to test the girl for…special abilities?"  
  
Dippet was surprised and relieved at the older man's dismissive shake of the head.  
  
"No need. Standard is only one ability per person and it's already clear she is a Seer. How else would Grindelwald have made all his successful predictions after killing Artemisia? Powers gained through a marriage bond are lost when the bond is broken. He was working off of the girl's Visions."  
  
That the auror came to the same logical, but erroneous conclusion Dippet himself had once made would make things a great deal easier. He supposed when the girl had touched the auror she either had not been projecting at the time or perhaps the great pain from contact with the girl had masked the lesser sensation that might have accompanied her touch.  
  
Not that the truth would remain hidden for long. Dippet still wondered of all the creatures to conceivably turn the girl into, why ever had Grindelwald picked one so likely to bite and scratch? No, if the young kitten had been biting and scratching people, than others would eventually notice the signs of what she truly was.  
  
Again looking at the man who was older than himself, Dippet's curiosity got the better of him.  
  
"May I inquire as to what, if any, special abilities you have?"  
  
The awkward way the man smiled and refused to meet his gaze would seem to indicate the answer to that question was negative.  
  
"I should really be getting back to the Ministry now."  
  
Dippet nodded, but as the man reached the staircase Dippet spoke again.  
  
"May I suggest referring to him as Merlin? It tends to give something away when you refer to him by his ancient Celtic name, Myrrdhin."  
  
#######################################  
  
*****************************************  
  
Albus Dumbledore sat in a chair in the Slytherin Head Girl's room watching Tom Riddle's interaction with the child. He simply did not trust Tom Riddle.  
  
In an effort to put some distance between the two on the way down to the dungeons he had suggested Tom allow the girl to walk on her own. Granted it was true, but the smug way Tom had pointed out that the girl had no shoes had not sat well with Dumbledore. Nor had he liked the boy's grin while reminding Dumbledore that the girl didn't like him in response to Dumbledore's offer to carry the girl.  
  
So instead, Dumbledore had spent the journey down to the dungeons repeatedly saying, 'I don't know,' in response to Alastor Moody's multitude of questions. Now he decided it was time to improve his relationship with the girl. Despite Moody's misgivings about the girl's appearance at Hogwarts, Dumbledore wanted to make the best of it. He put on his warmest smile before summoning a tray of hot chocolate. He held a mug, not a teacup, in each hand as he approached the girl.  
  
"Would you like to try some hot chocolate? It is my own recipe and quite delicious if I do say so myself."  
  
The girl eyed him suspiciously while he took a large sip. He held the same mug out to her at arm's length. He could see the girl's nose twitching as she sniffed the offering that was still in his outstretched hand. The strong emotion in her voice startled him when she spoke.  
  
"What did you do to it? You ruined it!"  
  
Again, Tom was there with a smirk to point out his obvious error.  
  
"She doesn't like things added to her milk."  
  
Before Dumbledore had a chance to recover from his surprise and attempt to make amends, Riddle had already supplied the girl with milk.  
  
Temporarily admitting defeat, Dumbledore spent the next few minutes examining the room around him. He was later surprised to learn Kettleburn had no children or younger siblings. The young professor had certainly done a fine job of preparing the room for use. All the dust and the doxies had been banished from the room that had not been in use for years. Various little toy magical creatures were around the room, none with a Ministry designation above XX. The bed had been lowered enough to allow for the girl's shorter height.  
  
As for Binns's contribution, well the man was entirely too fascinated by goblins. Kettleburn had removed them so they wouldn't give the girl nightmares later on. Binns's response since had been to sulk in a corner.  
  
Dumbledore suppressed a sigh as Moody finally took a break from staring at the girl to approach.  
  
"I don't like this. I don't like it at all. After the things Artemisia said, how can you be so calm? Do you really think it a coincidence that she ended up here of all places?"  
  
"Alastor, she isn't a threat, she is a child."  
  
"Name one of Artemisia's predictions that ever turned out to be wrong?"  
  
Dumbledore frowned. It was true no prediction of Artemisia's had ever been proven wrong. But that didn't mean the prediction about the girl would be true. There was after all a first time for everything.  
  
"Just because she is a child doesn't mean she isn't -"  
  
Moody gave up as Dumbledore walked away from him and towards the girl. Having allowed a few minutes to elapse since the cocoa incident, Dumbledore decided to try to engage the girl in conversation.  
  
"Headmaster Dippet will be here soon."  
  
This statement did not appear to at all impress the girl.  
  
"He is going to bring one of the house elves to help you."  
  
The girl did not seem at all pleased at the idea of a house elf coming, so Dumbledore moved the as yet one sided conversation on.  
  
"The Headmaster thinks you need a bath."  
  
Perhaps if he tried something that actually expected a reply.  
  
"Do you realize how long it has been since you have had a bath?"  
  
"I've already had a bath today."  
  
Having finally succeeded in getting a response from the girl, Dumbledore was shocked at her revelation. His head turned sharply to peer at Riddle over his half-moon glasses. He tried to keep his tone calm as he asked another question of the young girl.  
  
"Who has been giving you baths?"  
  
He turned his attentions back to young Minerva as she answered.  
  
'I have."  
  
"You have been giving yourself baths?"  
  
The girl nodded. Eight he realized, was probably self-sufficient enough to manage a bath alone, but still…  
  
"Tom, you never noticed someone else was using your bathtub?"  
  
He frowned when Tom shook his head and raised an eyebrow at the girl's response.  
  
"Tom has seen me having baths before."  
  
His eyebrow lowered and Tom lost the adamant look of denial from his face as young Minerva finished her thought.  
  
  
  
"But I use my tongue and paws."  
  
Not having a response for that, Dumbledore allowed the conversation to die out.   
  
Armando Dippet arrived shortly after. The Headmaster returned alone and looked a good deal less sure of himself than the last time Dumbledore had seen him. Dumbledore found his apprehension growing with Dippet's first words.  
  
"It would seem we have a minor setback."  
  
"How minor?"  
  
Dippet waved his hand to summon Dumbledore closer and presumptively out of the hearing of the young girl.  
  
"Do you recall when Mr. Moody expressed the opinion that the house elves knew where Minerva was but could not share that information with him?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"It would seem Mr. Moody was for once correct about something. Apparently house elves can however gossip amongst their own kind. None of them want anything to do with the girl. They rather unaffectionately refer to her as the 'devil woman's child' or simply the 'devil child'."  
  
Dumbledore frowned.  
  
"I am not entirely surprised. When Grindelwald had her demonstrate some of the curses she knew, he said something about doing it the way they had practiced on Dibby, one of their house elves."  
  
He considered the matter for a moment. At present all the staff positions, with the exception of school nurse, were filled by males. The young girl had been quite…expressive in her dislike of Madame Griselda. Still, something about Tom Riddle set off warning alarms in his mind. He found the prospect that Tom had been the primary, if not only influence in young Minerva's life for the past few months disturbing. He felt it imperative that her care be taken away from Riddle as much as possible, to slowly wean her away from that influence.  
  
"It would be far from the best solution, but temporarily, what about giving one of the elves a direct order? They are bound to you as Headmaster of this school. They have to obey you."  
  
Dippet fixed him with a penetrating glare.  
  
"I hardly think it at all in the girl's best interest to leave her in the care of someone who is terrified of her and openly despises her, however temporary that placement might be."  
  
Dippet sighed before continuing.  
  
"Besides none of them would come. As soon as I even began to suggest it, a rush began to see who could get inside the lit ovens first. I have never in all my years had a house elf refuse a direct order, but when I specifically ordered Fitzy to come with me, she flung herself out a window."  
  
At Dumbledore's shocked look Dippet waved a hand dismissively.  
  
"Fitzy did it just to make the point. She apparated back into a cupboard in the kitchens right before she would have hit the ground."  
  
Kettleburn had noticed the quiet whispering and joined them.  
  
"Everything okay?"  
  
Dippet quickly explained the situation to the Care of Magical Creatures Professor.  
  
Kettleburn pointed out an obvious flaw in Dippet's plan that everyone had overlooked so far.  
  
"It was a bad enough idea with the house elves helping, but without a house elf staying I really don't think it's a good idea to leave her here. She may be only a few years younger than a first year, but those few years are pretty important. Kitten is too young to be left alone all night in a strange place."  
  
Dumbledore couldn't help but notice the other man's use of Riddle's name for the girl, but refrained from interrupting as Kettleburn continued talking.  
  
"She should stay in one of the professor's quarters or in a room with some first years. If you aren't going to do that then at least put her in someone else's House, other than Binns's. I mean for Merlin's sake, the man tried to make the bed using sheets depicting goblins burning down people's cottages."  
  
Dumbledore admitted the validity of Kettleburn's statements. Dippet however disagreed.  
  
"Out of the question, Master Kettleburn. The only professors currently on staff are male. To have her stay with one of them would be improper in the extreme. As for putting her with other children, I have my reasons. The girl will be fine here. I do have some experience in the matter. After all, the girl's mother was almost the same age when she came into my care."  
  
That Kettleburn greatly overstepped any number of bounds with his next statement in no way lessened the truth of it.  
  
"Yes and we all know how spectacularly that turned out! Surely you kept her mother in adjoining rooms with you? You didn't leave her all alone at night in a room away from everyone else?"  
  
Dumbledore found Dippet's response surprising and yet given how formal the older man was, perhaps not as surprising as it could have been. After all, the man refused to even call his familiar by its first name.  
  
"Well of course I didn't keep her in my rooms. That would have been indecent."  
  
The conversation ended as the slightly raised voices garnered the attentions of the others in the room. When Moody excused himself to report back to the Ministry, Binns too tried to leave.  
  
Dippet sighed while ordering Binns to remain.  
  
"I need to go speak to Masters Shackleton and Pomfrey. Binns, since no house elf will be arriving, you will remain to ensure Miss Grindelwald has a bath before I return."  
  
For some time after the Headmaster had left, Robert Binns remained staring at the door in shock. He steadfastly refused to look at the girl or the bathroom. Dumbledore, himself slightly uncomfortable, made no move to help his older colleague. It was Kettleburn who came to Binns's rescue.  
  
"For Merlin's sake, Robert! Just go turn on the taps and I'll get her ready."  
  
Binns refused, so Dumbledore pulled him into the oversized bathroom. As he turned on one of the taps, Binns decided to help.  
  
"Bubbles! Lots of bubbles! Then we can't see anything!"  
  
As Binns filled the bath with far more bubbles than water, he called out to Kettleburn who was still in the bedroom.  
  
"Dippet left me in charge and I say leave her clothing on!"  
  
Dumbledore couldn't see Kettleburn's face but he had a fair idea of the man's expression from his tone in response.  
  
"You really are too much, Robert. It's going to be a lot more difficult to get this nightdress off wet than it would be dry."  
  
Dumbledore could see Binns's face quite well. The older professor was clearly of the Headmaster's era and scandalized by the idea.  
  
"Well, not to worry, it is never coming off! Dumbledore can transfigure it into a new dry one. Riddle, bring her in here and let's get this over with."  
  
When Riddle tried to lower her into the water a moment later, the very unusual girl had a very confused expression and asked the strangest question.  
  
"Are you going to drown me now?"  
  
Riddle was so shocked he almost dropped the girl.  
  
'Never!"  
  
Riddle's reassurance did nothing to remove the confused look from the girl's face. Binns was facing the wall and not the girl, but he was still in a rush.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous! Muggles drown. Witches float. Everyone knows that. Now everyone look away."  
  
The girl considered the matter a minute before allowing Tom to finish lowering her into the water.  
  
From his own position facing the wall, Dumbledore began to wonder if Kettleburn just enjoyed needling Binns, when the younger man pointed out the older man's oversight.  
  
  
  
"Robert, if no one watches her, how do we know she is alright?"  
  
Binns's response was swift and not at all thought out.  
  
"Make noise! Splash!"  
  
With the first splash came a delighted giggle. Binns seemed to reconsider his position on the matter after a few more splashes soaked through his clothes.  
  
'No more splashing! No more splashing!"  
  
The girl took no notice of his words. She seemed to be splashing more each time he said it. Her lack of response and wicked laugh did nothing to deter Binns from saying it.  
  
Finally Binns gave up.  
  
"Would someone get her out of there before she grows gills?"  
  
Dumbledore thought Binns's conduct was ridiculous. Personally, he would have helped but he knew the girl was not very fond of him so he continued counting the number of tiles on the wall. Tom, inspired by Binns's sense of modesty was also still facing the wall. It was Kettleburn who finally caught hold of the slippery little girl. By the time Dippet returned, the girl's nightdress had been transfigured into something new, and Kettleburn had her mostly dried.  
  
"I found Shackleton easily enough, but no one has seen Pomfrey since his last class. Dumbledore and Kettleburn, I want you two to come help me check the village. Binns will remain here."  
  
The idea of leaving the young girl under the supervision of Binns and Tom Riddle did not sit well with Dumbledore. He was about to offer an alternative suggestion when Dippet rolled his eyes and spoke again.  
  
"Not to worry, Master Dumbledore. Mr. Riddle will be returning to his own rooms. I am certain he has some course work to do. Binns will remain to entertain the girl and put her to bed."  
  
Not the best of plans, but Dumbledore found it more acceptable. Binns however seemed not at all pleased with the arrangement.  
  
"Why should I have to do it? Make Dumbledore or Kettleburn stay! I don't even know when she should go to sleep."  
  
Dippet explained his reasoning in a tone disapproving of all involved.  
  
"I have been informed that Master Pomfrey is likely to be in one of the two taverns. Master Kettleburn is familiar with the Three Broomsticks and Master Dumbledore is more than familiar with the proprietor of the other. After that I need Dumbledore to explain the delicacy of the current situation to Mr. Hagrid."  
  
Before Kettleburn followed after Dippet, he gave Binns a suggestion.  
  
"Kitten is eight, so let her stay up until 8 o'clock."  
  
Dumbledore waited for a very reluctant Riddle to leave before heading out himself.  
  
##################################  
  
Robert Binns fumed at the indignity of it all. Imagine, leaving him here to entertain the child and put her to bed. He stared at the girl who just stared back at him impassively. He was triumphant in their staring contest as the girl gave into a yawn during which her eyes closed briefly.  
  
The yawn gave him an idea. Kettleburn's suggestion of letting the girl stay up until eight in the evening because she was eight years old had been absurd. Why if you followed that logic no one past the age of twenty-four would ever sleep.  
  
Binns looked out the window at the sun beginning to set. Six o'clock was close enough to eight o'clock. He pointed to the bed.  
  
"Of with you now! It is your bedtime."  
  
The girl didn't argue with him over the time, but she still found something to argue over.  
  
"I want to sleep with my Tom."  
  
Binns snorted at such a scandalous idea.  
  
"Miss Grindelwald, I have a whole list of things I want, but that doesn't mean I am going to get them. Now off to bed with you.:"  
  
Later, Binns would briefly wonder if she had complied so easily out of tiredness or deceitful intent. Either way he didn't really mind as he was able to leave rather quickly.  
  
After she climbed onto the bed, he wasn't at all trying to justify his own actions when he next spoke.  
  
"Tomorrow will be your first day of classes and you know what they say about the early bird."  
  
Seeing her unknowing expression, he shared the full adage with her.  
  
"The early bird gets the worm."  
  
The girl wore a thoughtful expression as she sat up in the bed and asked a question. Not quite knowing what to say in answer, Robert Binns ignored the question and carefully closed the bedroom door behind him as he left.  
  
"Who gets the bird?"  
  
########################################  
  
******************************************  
  
The young man had been pacing this room relentlessly since his return. Alone. The little kitten who had been his constant companion for some time now was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Above the fireplace, the room's other presence couldn't help but wonder what had become of the kitten. He was still wondering if her absence was a well or an ill omen when the door opened. His carefully drawn eyebrows went up as the kitten entered the room in the girl form he had glimpsed several times in her sleep.  
  
The girl rubbed her eyes as she spoke.  
  
"I want to sleep with you, Tom."  
  
All the tension that had fueled the young man's pacing seemed gone the instant the girl had appeared.  
  
Having long ago learned it did not do to argue with his little pet, the young man nodded. He easily lifted her and carried her to the bed. After the young man tucked the blankets around her, he placed a chaste kiss upon her cheek before laying beside her above the coverlet, still fully dressed.  
  
At some point in the night, the girl was again replaced by a kitten.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N  
  
Thank you Minerva Lea, Static-Filled Star, Jbfritz, Tabby Girl, Laura Kay, Tamora Kitase, Redwoman06, Mavidian, and Margo Wulfric for reviewing.  
  
As for Dippet's ban on live mandrakes there was a little hint back in one of the earlier chapters. I think a better question would be why did Dumbledore lift the ban when he became Headmaster. I mean think about the effect of live fully grown mandrakes.  
  
Yes, it was Amelia Bones in Chapter 27. The same woman who will later work for the Ministry and have a seat on the Wizengamot. And yes that will be of significance later. 


	29. Chapter 29

A/N Thank you Maria, MinervaDumbledore1 for betaing this.  
  
More information about all the creatures mentioned in this chapter can be found at The Beastiary on the Harry Potter Lexicon or in the Fantastic Beasts book by Newt Scalamander.   
  
Quintaped is a 5 legged beast that especially likes to eat humans  
  
The lethifold attacks sleeping humans and after smothering them, digests them in their bed.  
  
Puffskeins are little balls of fur with long tongues and (at least for the purposes of this story) no teeth. Puffskeins' favorite food is snot.  
  
Diricaul is as a fat, flightless bird that like a phoenix escapes danger by vanishing in a burst of feathers. It is known by muggles as the dodo bird.  
  
If you are taking the time to read all this please take an extra minute and review too!  
  
I am curious do people prefer a few short chapters a week or one longer chapter every few weeks?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
When Albus Dumbledore arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast, before he even headed to the Head Table, his eyes scanned the Slytherin table. Neither Tom Riddle nor Minerva Grindelwald were present. As breakfast was served for another full hour, almost half of the students had not yet arrived. Dumbledore had no real reason for alarm.  
  
A glance at the Head Table supplied one. Never before in his hundred plus years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had Robert Binns been late for breakfast, or any meal for that matter. It was a frequent grievance amongst the staff that the History of Magic professor always arrived before the official start of breakfast in order to monopolize the bacon supply.  
  
He didn't think much of it at the time, but also missing were Shackleton, Kettleburn, and Pomfrey. After the state they had found Pomfrey in the night before, he wasn't at all surprised by the man's absence.  
  
Dumbledore briefly caught the gaze of the Headmaster at the center of the table before heading to the dungeons to investigate.  
  
It wasn't at all hard to locate Binns. The real challenge was navigating the dungeons. Dumbledore dodged a relatively small boulder aimed at his head by one cackling Red Cap, only to have another sink its teeth into his knee.  
  
As he was using his wand to try to both pry off the one on his knee and keep the boulder throwing one at bay, Shackleton arrived to help.  
  
"Oh good, you caught two."  
  
Dumbledore shrugged.  
  
"I caught two, two caught me, I suppose it all depends on how you look at the matter."  
  
Shackleton appeared to be in too poor a mood to appreciate his humor.  
  
"Dippet's too laid back. I would have fired Pomfrey straight away last night, but after this, even Dippet will need to take action. Do you know that when Kettleburn and I were first called down here, the bloody Red Caps were all concentrated in his classroom? Of course they all scattered as soon as we opened the door and started stunning them. Pomfrey still had your blood all over the place from yesterday."  
  
Before continuing, Shackleton gave him a piercing look, as if he were partially to blame since it was his blood.  
  
"Apparently, a few scouring spells were too much for him to cast before going off to get loaded. Kettleburn had a devil of a time trying to get the stains off. Finally he 'Incendioed' them off. Of course, Pomfrey is nowhere to be seen and Binns is just as useless as ever. When I become Headmaster, I don't know which one I will get rid of first."  
  
Dumbledore frowned, listening to his superior complain. It wasn't because he didn't think Pomfrey deserved every word of it after last night, but because he had more important concerns. Once the Red Cap was dislodged from his knee, he excused himself and limped away.  
  
Binns was easy to spot outside the girl's room. He was tapping on the door tentatively, as if afraid someone might be in there and decide to come out.  
  
"Miss? Miss, you have to come out now."  
  
That not working, it appeared Binns was moving on to bribery.  
  
"I have a magic wand for you!"  
  
Binns pressed his ear to the door, listening for sounds of movement. When Dumbledore tapped on his shoulder, the older man started terribly.  
  
"Don't do that!"  
  
Dumbledore ignored the reprimand.  
  
"How long have you been tapping?"  
  
"Long enough. You try."  
  
Dumbledore gave a sharp rap on the door.  
  
"Miss McGonagall? Minerva? Kitten?"  
  
After the rather undramatic rescue of Pomfrey from his attempts to drown himself in a sea of fire whisky the night before, a long discussion had ensued on how best to hide the girl's true identity. The story they settled upon was that she was the younger sibling of the not so recently departed Thomas McGonagall and the one actually responsible for the magical activity that mistakenly resulted in him being sent to Hogwarts. Certainly not the full truth, but it did have an element of truth in it.  
  
As it was late when the decision was made, it still remained to bring the young lady and Tom Riddle on board with the deception. Rather than bring more attention to the girl's existence by parading her through Diagon Alley to the wand shop, Dippet was hoping the wand left behind by that same McGonagall would function for the girl.  
  
Another knock failed to cause any stirrings in the chamber beyond. It did however get the attention of Kettleburn who was walking by, holding an immobilized Red Cap by the ankle.  
  
"You two are pathetic."  
  
Kettleburn rapped once before opening the door. He stuck his head into the room.  
  
"Kitten?"  
  
He pushed the door fully open for all to see. The bed was empty. A quick check of the adjoining bathroom, closet, and under the bed revealed no one.  
  
Dumbledore said a single word before marching out of the room.  
  
"Riddle."  
  
Binns and Kettleburn followed after him to the Head Boy's room. Dumbledore gave only a quick knock before using his wand to unseal the wards put on the door by the room's occupant. If Tom Riddle was doing anything he shouldn't be, he had no intentions of giving him time to make it look otherwise.  
  
The knock had awoken Tom and the uninvited entrance startled him. Dumbledore once again found displeasure at the sight of Tom Riddle that greeted him. Tom quickly scrambled off of the bed as the three professors moved into the room. Tom was fully dressed, but Dumbledore wasn't sure if what remained on the bed was better or worse than what he had been concerned about. Truthfully, he still wasn't even sure it didn't include what he feared, because the girl was again no longer a girl.  
  
After having awoken at Tom's sudden movements, the little gray and black kitten gave an inquiring look while stretching.  
  
Binns pointed a finger back and forth between the former girl and the Head Boy.  
  
"You cursed her again! You turned her back into a cat! You are a hooligan!"  
  
"I didn't!"  
  
Dumbledore frowned considering the things that had occurred the past day. The girl, though she didn't appear to have full recall, did at least remember or could be reminded of bits of the past. She behaved unusually, but had not gone entirely feral - an amazing feat given the length of her transformation.  
  
He had administered the mandrake potion to her in the early afternoon. The potion would have lasted approximately twelve hours. In that time, it would have been impossible for her to have been transfigured. Once the potion had run its course, it would have again been possible to transfigure her into a cat.  
  
While he had no doubt Tom was gifted enough in Transfiguration to do it, given the relatively good condition the girl's mind was in, it was far more likely -   
  
"She's an animagus."  
  
Tom looked torn between denying Binns's allegation and conceding Dumbledore's truth. Dumbledore went on to explain more fully his conclusion.  
  
"Some research has been done on long term animagus transformations. They have been used in the past by the Ministry as spies to gather information. Animagi take much longer than simple human to animal transfigurations to begin to have detrimental effects on the mind. Still after extremely long periods of time there begins a loss of memory and even identity."  
  
That would certainly explain the question that had been bothering him since it occurred to him last night after the girl was asleep. Why hadn't the girl asked about her father? Dippet had easily explained it away as the girl being a Seer who already knew the fate of Grindelwald and had insisted no one mention Grindelwald in front of her. But Dumbledore hadn't found that answer completely satisfying.  
  
Kettleburn interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"Is the memory loss permanent?"  
  
Dumbledore didn't have an easy answer for that question.  
  
"Sometimes. The longer she remains as a girl the more likely it is she might begin to recover some of her lost memories. But the longer she stays as a cat the harder it becomes."   
  
Kettleburn approached the kitten.  
  
"Kitten?"  
  
The cat's ears flicked towards the man with the Red Cap.  
  
"Kitten, can you change back into a little girl for me?"  
  
The kitten gave him a bored look before closing her eyes.  
  
"Kitten, this is very important. If you can change back, we need to see you do it. Tom is going to be in a lot of trouble unless you show us you made yourself into a cat."  
  
Dumbledore could never hope to understand how Binns's mind worked. For whatever reason, the History of Magic professor approached the kitten and wagged his finger in front of her whiskers.  
  
"You change back right now or else!"  
  
Binns soon discovered exactly what the kitten thought the 'else' in 'right now or else' stood for. He scowled and sucked on his freshly bitten finger.  
  
"There's a hooligan right there! Dumbledore, don't you have some spell for this?"  
  
This certainly explained why Alastor Moody's repeated castings of 'Finite Incantatem' had proven useless. There was indeed a spell just for such occasions, but he had hoped to not have to force the girl again. The spell wasn't painful, but it wasn't exactly pleasant either.  
  
"Tom, would you care to try to convince her or do I need to make her change?"  
  
Tom did not look at all happy with the extra people in his rooms. He seemed to want nothing more than just to be left alone with his kitten.  
  
"Kitten wants to be a cat. It was her choice. I didn't do it or make her do it. She came to my room because she wanted to sleep here with me. She isn't used to having to sleep alone. You shouldn't make her change. She likes being a cat, she doesn't want to be a little girl."  
  
The idea of just leaving the girl as a cat wasn't something that could actually even be considered.  
  
"That's not possible, Tom. I don't want to have to force her. Will you try to convince her to change?"  
  
After a minute of inaction on Tom's part, Dumbledore reluctantly moved forward. His motion appeared to have finally spurred Tom to a decision. He returned to the bed and gently caressed the little kitten before speaking to her.  
  
"Kitten, you have to be a little girl for a while."  
  
It took a few minutes, but Tom got the kitten to return to girl form. Watching the girl transform was amazing. Such an accomplishment for someone so young.  
  
The girl snapped her teeth menacingly in Binns's direction.  
  
"I want to be a kitten."  
  
Dumbledore had a second opportunity to marvel as the girl reversed the transformation to return to her animagus form.  
  
Kettleburn sounded rather impressed.  
  
"Well, I would say that takes care of that problem. She is clearly in control of her own changing."  
  
Perhaps, but it also introduced a new one.  
  
Dumbledore reached into an enchanted pocket in his robes. Though he was not wearing the same clothing as yesterday, he still was able to pull out the vial of mandrake potion from yesterday's pocket. He summoned a small dish of milk and added only three drops, careful to conserve the rest .  
  
"Tom, she needs to drink this."  
  
"Why? She isn't bothering anyone by doing it. You're just jealous because she is an animagus and you're not."  
  
Armando Dippet had been correct yesterday in his assessment that Dumbledore was acting before fully appreciating the consequences of his actions. Not so much today. He ignored the implication that a child of eight was more talented at transfiguration than he was.  
  
"Tom, do you know what the punishment is for being an unregistered animagus?"  
  
The shifting of the young man's feet seemed to indicate there was something he wasn't an authority on.  
  
"It's five years in Azkaban. Ministry aurors will be coming to check on the girl's progress. We cannot chance for her to transfigure in front of the Ministry people or anyone else."  
  
Kettleburn had not been in the room during the meeting with Minister Augustus yesterday.  
  
"Dumbledore, she is a child. No one is going to put a child in Azkaban."  
  
Binns hadn't been there either, but he was older and not so naïve.  
  
"A child no, a Themis yes."  
  
Tom had been at the meeting and began to realize the reasoning behind Dumbledore's words. He took the dish over to the kitten and coaxed her into drinking it.  
  
Dumbledore motioned Kettleburn away from the others. He wasn't quite sure how to phrase what he wanted to request of the other professor. Kettleburn's openly questioning expression suggested he should at least begin trying.  
  
"I think that Tom knew the girl wasn't really a cat."  
  
The Care of Magical Creatures professor again immobilized the Red Cap in his hand as his earlier spell began to wear off.  
  
"I picked up on that yesterday."  
  
"You noticed Tom's behavior too?"  
  
"No, I meant I picked up on your distrust, dislike even, of Tom yesterday."  
  
The conversation wasn't going in the direction he intended. Dumbledore chose not to respond to the insinuation and continued to try to get his point across.  
  
"She is an animagus. She can change back and forth between a cat and a girl at will."  
  
Kettleburn didn't seem at all impressed by his words.  
  
"You are the Transfiguration Professor, but I do believe that is what an animagus does."  
  
"What I mean is…she may have changed before…while alone in Tom's presence."  
  
Kettleburn's frown suggested he realized the direction Dumbledore was trying to take the conversation in. His words showed he wasn't going there willingly.  
  
"She might have. So what?"  
  
Dumbledore was so focused on trying to get Kettleburn on board with his train of thought that he failed to notice Riddle creeping closer to eavesdrop on the conversation.  
  
"I want you to check the girl to find out if…to be sure he hasn't…tampered…with her."  
  
Tom's outrage was too great. He clearly forgot that he shouldn't respond to what he wasn't supposed to be hearing.  
  
"I wouldn't do that to her! How can you even think that!"  
  
Dumbledore observed the young man before him. The outrage seemed sincere, but he had long suspected Tom Riddle of being quite skillful at deceit.  
  
"I would never hurt her! Kitten belongs to me! I would never let anyone do something like that to her!"  
  
Dumbledore's eyes couldn't help but widen in shock as rather than be the accused, Tom tried to be the accuser.  
  
"What kind of a filthy old man would think of that? Just because you would think of doing something like that to her-"  
  
Kettleburn put a hand on Tom Riddle's shoulder to silence him.  
  
"Tom, go get ready. You need to take Kitten upstairs for breakfast before your first class. Potions, right?"  
  
Tom was still glaring angrily at Dumbledore, but he gave a slight nod so Kettleburn continued.  
  
"Dippet decided last night, you can take Kitten to your classes. Your professors will give her different work, more appropriate to her level of learning. Only the people in the potions room yesterday know who she really is. The other staff and students are to be told she is Thomas McGonagall's younger sister, Kitten McGonagall. She responds to the name Kitten, not Minerva anyways."  
  
Tom's eyes still hadn't left Dumbledore, so Kettleburn repeated his first words.  
  
"Tom, go finish getting ready."  
  
With the glare Riddle was directing at him, Dumbledore wouldn't have been at all surprised if the boy had hissed while walking by. As soon as Tom went into the other room to change, Kettleburn returned his attentions to Dumbledore.  
  
"Do you really suspect the boy of being capable of something like that? He's barely more than a child himself."  
  
Dumbledore truthfully answered the younger professor.  
  
"I honestly don't know. I certainly hope not, but I honestly don't know."  
  
"And you aren't willing to give him the benefit of the doubt?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed.  
  
"I simply am not comfortable taking that chance. Are you?"  
  
Kettleburn appeared to be debating the matter.  
  
"Do you really think that's necessary, Dumbledore? That kind of an examination could be traumatic in itself for a child. Why don't we just watch the girl for a bit? Often there are indicators, unusual behavior patterns that…"  
  
Kettleburn gave up his attempts to convince Dumbledore as the two observed the once again girl also getting ready for the day. She was sitting on the bed licking her hand, grooming herself.  
  
Kettleburn again immobilized the Red Cap as it began to regain its ability for motion.  
  
"Okay, let me finish helping Shackleton with the last of the Red Caps. I'll collect Kitten after her potion lesson."  
  
*********************************************  
  
###########################################  
  
Pomfrey rested his pounding head on top of his folded arms. He really needed a potion right now, but yesterday the catgirl had broken all of the vials he had stored of the particular potion he needed. He needed to make another one, but really, right now he couldn't.  
  
Last night he had told the others he had no idea what had happened. Technically, it was the truth. He couldn't remember what it was he might have said or done in the course of the evening.  
  
What he hadn't told them was what he had left the castle planning to do. Honestly, it wasn't his fault - no one had bothered to tell him the catgirl was supposed to be a secret. Still, he didn't actually remember saying anything about her. But then, he couldn't remember why everyone had been so eager to buy him drinks last night either.  
  
He winced at the shuffling noises his NEWT level class made as they entered the room. He lifted his head only enough for his voice to not be completely muffled.  
  
"Make the potion on page 130 of Magical Draughts and Potions. The first person to bring me one will get fifty points added to their House."  
  
He heard the students sniggering, but he really couldn't spare the effort to take points off. His eyes were closed, but even with his hands covering his ears, he couldn't drown out the voices.  
  
"Kitten, just stir. I'll do the chopping and slicing."  
  
"Kitten don't touch the fire. Leave it alone!"  
  
Pomfrey flinched, but thankfully Riddle's voice wasn't really loud or angry.  
  
"Take your nose out of the cauldron."  
  
It seemed catgirl was as curious about potion making as a girl as she had been as a cat.  
  
Given Riddle's recent rash of cauldron explosions, he was a bit hesitant when the boy was the first to approach with a finished potion. But surely Riddle must have some potion making skill, to manage to test into the NEWT level class. This headache dissolving potion was a simple potion, one usually assigned to first years. Besides, nothing could be as bad as the pain in his head.  
  
Pomfrey drank the potion. It was wonderful, almost like he could feel the headache dissolving immediately. When the first scream came, he didn't notice it at all. He didn't notice Shackleton and Kettleburn running in to investigate the chorus of screams and shouting either. In fact, he didn't really notice anything at all for several days. Not until he woke up in St. Mungo's after they had finished undissolving his head.  
  
He probably would have tried to make more of a fuss about it after if he hadn't been so relieved to have not been at the castle later in the week, when the issue of the Quibbler arrived. If he had been accessible that day, he was fairly certain suspending him would have been the least of the things Dippet would have done.  
  
Not to mention, it did get rid of the headache.  
  
  
  
************************************************  
  
##############################################  
  
Kevric Kettleburn had seen a lot of unpleasant things in his lifetime - thestral attacks, rioting giants, a Quintaped assault, and even more than once his own limb torn off of his body. But not even the time during an internship in the tropics, when he had walked in on a lethifold three fourths of the way through digesting his roommate, had he seen a sight to prepare him for what greeted him upon entering the potion classroom.  
  
He left Shackleton to work on getting Pomfrey to the infirmary while he ushered the children out, even though it was well before the bell was due to ring.  
  
As Tom was going out the door, he held him back.  
  
"Tom, I need Kitten to come with me to my office for a few minutes."  
  
He noticed Tom's frown and the tightening of the young man's grasp on the girl's hand.  
  
"Can I go with her?"  
  
Kevric hesitated. Personally, he couldn't even conceive of a mere child like Tom being capable of the things Dumbledore suggested. Still, he wasn't so unworldly as to not be aware that those things did go on. It was Kitten who decided it for him. She held her other hand up.  
  
"You can carry me there, Tom."  
  
Tom didn't hesitate before gathering the girl into his arms. Kevric smiled at the sweet way she curled up against the older boy. The girl was slight, but not nearly as easy to carry as a kitten had been. Even so, Tom never offered a word of complaint on the journey to his office.  
  
The girl became a little apprehensive in the office. When he told Tom to set her on the exam table, the girl coiled her arms around the boy's neck and refused to let go. Not that Tom tried very hard, or well at all, to make her.  
  
Having been told about Madame Griselda's experiences examining the girl, Kevric preceded slowly.  
  
"You need to have a check up to make sure you have been growing the way you should. Now Madame Griselda is a people healer. She is very nice and could take a look at you."  
  
He was almost certain the hair on the back of the girl's neck was raised even though she wasn't in cat form.  
  
"Personally, I like animals a lot better than I like most people. I am the Care of Magical Creatures professor at the school. I take care of all the animals here. Do you think it would be alright if I took a look at you?"  
  
The girl and her handler were both eyeing him suspiciously.  
  
"What kind of animals do you take care of?"  
  
Kevric shrugged casually.  
  
"Oh, all kinds of animals. Owls, flobberworms, hippogriffs, puffskeins, nifflers, and diricauls. Oh, and cats. I take care of cats and little kittens, too."  
  
The girl seemed to be relaxing a bit. She glanced around the room before again regarding him suspiciously.  
  
"Where are all your animals?"  
  
Kevric smiled.  
  
"Well, some of them are too big to stay in my office. This week my classes are learning about hippogriffs. I keep them in a pen outside because they wouldn't be happy in here. Tomorrow, I am getting in a whole shipment of puffskeins. They are small enough to be kept in my office. Puffskeins are fun to play with and very friendly. They are little balls of fur with really long tongues. I bet you would like them."  
  
He could tell the girl was very interested, but was trying to not show it. Her firm grasp on Tom was a thing of the past.  
  
"I would like to make a deal with you. If you let me take a look at you today, I will let you come see my puffskeins tomorrow. Does that sound fair?"  
  
After a moment's consideration, Kitten came up with a counter offer.  
  
"If you let me see the puffskeins tomorrow, than I will let you take a look at me tomorrow."  
  
Kevric smiled. The girl was quite clever and a harsh bargainer, but he needed to do this as soon as possible. He had already decided from watching Tom's behavior with the girl that he was not going to do any invasive examinations. He would make excuses to Dumbledore, but barring any real reason to suspect the need, he couldn't justify performing one. Still, he did need to give the girl a standard checkup to find out if her months of living as a cat had had any effects on her development.  
  
"I need to look at you today."  
  
The girl gave him an appraising look.  
  
"Well, what can you show me today?"  
  
Kevric chuckled while considering the matter. He had a constant stock of flobberworms, but he knew if he tried to pass them off on the girl as interesting creatures, he was just asking for trouble. There was, of course, a ready supply of Red Caps in Shackleton's office, but those were definitely not appropriate. He did have the hippogriffs, but hippogriffs could be a bit temperamental. Yet, if he were careful, it could work.  
  
"Let me examine you now and you and Tom can come to my next class to see the hippogriffs."  
  
With the girl grudgingly accepting, Kevric was left with the task of convincing her handler.  
  
"What are you going to do to her?"  
  
The anxiety in Tom's tone and face reassured Kevric that his opinion of Dumbledore's request being unnecessary was correct. As he retrieved a few instruments from the shelves, he motioned Tom over to him.  
  
"Tom, I have no intentions of doing anything but a normal exam to check her development. Do you know of any reason why I should be checking for anything else?"  
  
The look of suppressed rage on Tom's face was answer enough for him, even without the boy's harshly whispered response.  
  
"I would never do that to her. Never. Whatever Dumbledore told you, he lied. He hates me. He always has, ever since I turned in his precious Hagrid for killing Myrtle. Kitten belongs to me. Why would I hurt someone that belongs to me?"  
  
Kevric nodded. Tom Riddle had never elected to take one of his classes, so he had no real experience with the boy. He only knew him as the Slytherin Head Boy and school hero who had solved the mystery of the attacks on the students a few years back. He knew Hagrid well and it had not at all surprised him that Hagrid had been keeping some kind of harmful creature in the castle. While Hagrid was a dear, sweet boy, he had a different perspective than most people on the hazards of some creatures.  
  
He had always known Dumbledore to be a fair man, but he had seemed to react excessively to Tom in the past day. Personally, given the unusual circumstances of the past day, Kevric hadn't seen anything sufficient to prompt Dumbledore's responses.  
  
As for Tom's comments about Kitten belonging to him, well she had been his cat for several months. It didn't surprise him that it would take more than a single day for the boy to get over thinking that way, particularly given the boy's personal history.  
  
"Open your mouth and say 'ahh.'"  
  
The girl opened her mouth willingly enough, but as soon as he put the stick in her mouth she shifted it to the side of her mouth and began gnawing on it. After getting her to spit out the pieces he moved his attentions away from her face to give her time to become familiar with him.  
  
The girl was a bit disbelieving at his request. She tilted her head inquiringly.  
  
"You want me to kick you?"  
  
Kevric smiled. "Just push against my hand as hard as you can with your foot."  
  
His next comment went to Tom.  
  
"Tom, her muscles aren't as well developed as they should be. I would have expected a mischievous little kitten like her to have gotten plenty of exercise running around the castle."  
  
For the first time Kevric got an idea of what made Dumbledore so untrusting of Tom. Surely the light in the room was playing tricks, causing the glint in Tom's eyes as he answered.  
  
"I carried her everywhere she wanted to go and kept her locked in my rooms when I went somewhere she couldn't go. Slytherins know not to let their pets run around the castle unsupervised. Horrible things can happen to creatures left unattended."  
  
When he tried to check her reflexes with a slight tap from his little hammer, the girl showed him how good all her reflexes were. He narrowly avoided the snapping teeth.  
  
"Now, you promised to let me examine you. If you want to see the hippogriffs, you have to let me finish."  
  
The girl gave up trying to get a hold of him with her teeth. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, but well it was that he didn't trust her. Animals had instincts that could overrule the best of intentions. He really was hoping to get through a day, just one day, without being bitten or scratched. To examine her ears, he was going to have to get within easy range of the teeth that he could already tell were quite healthy.  
  
"How about a special treat? I bet you like candy."  
  
Kevric went over to one the drawers and came back with a tin. Opening it, he offered one of the contents to the girl. She just stared at it.  
  
"Go on, try one. I made it myself. Its called treacle fudge."  
  
A knock at the door was followed by the appearance of young Hagrid.  
  
"'ello, Professor Kettleburn."  
  
"Hello, Hagrid. What can I do for you?"  
  
The young man noticed the two other people in the room. His greeting for Kitten was enthusiastic, but he didn't seem at all comfortable with Tom. Tom soon made the reason why clear. Yes, Kevric supposed, Dumbledore might have a good reason for disliking Tom Riddle. Still, his behavior towards the girl was nothing but devoted.  
  
"'ello, Kitten. Nice to see you again." After shuffling his feet, Hagrid gave Tom a one word greeting. "Tom."  
  
Tom didn't bother to respond. Kitten smiled at the young groundskeeper.  
  
"Hello, Ruby-us."  
  
Hagrid smiled at the butchery of his first name. "Why dinna you call me Hagrid. Its what everyone calls me."  
  
Kitten held out the tin to Hagrid.  
  
"This is called treacle fudge. Go on, try one."  
  
Hagrid smiled at the girl and took one.  
  
"Why thank yeh."  
  
Not wanting the girl to know he had been trying to trick her, Kevric didn't warn off Hagrid. Not surprisingly, the homemade 'treat' that he often fed to animals to temporarily cement their jaws together was not strong enough to effect the boy that clearly could not be anything less than half-giant. He would have to explain to him later that it wasn't really something meant for eating.  
  
"Tats right nice fudge there. Goin' to have to get the recipe from you later, Professor."  
  
Or maybe not.  
  
Kitten was trying to unload his whole supply on the boy.  
  
"Have some more."  
  
"Kitten, you don't have to be nice to him. He's the groundskeeper."  
  
Kevric was too shocked at Tom's rude words to say anything for a moment. Hagrid just looked down at his feet and shuffled them. Kitten didn't seem to be of a mind to listen to Tom.  
  
"Why do you keep it?"  
  
"Eh?"  
  
Again Tom was quick with a response.  
  
"Hagrid was expelled. His wand was broken in half."  
  
That didn't appear to be an answer to the question the girl intended.  
  
"Why do you have to keep it? Does it try to get away?"  
  
Hagrid didn't seem to mind the odd question.  
  
"Eh, well I suppose it does sometimes. Gettin' overgrown and such."  
  
For the first time, Kevric noticed the something moving in the hand at Hagrid's side.  
  
"What have you got there, Hagrid?"  
  
Hagrid's arm extended to more clearly show the thrashing Red Cap he held. Given that the pieces of Hagrid's wand were in Dippet's office, the boy had no way to stun the creature.  
  
"I found this lil tyke runnin' about. Thought yeh might be interested in em."  
  
Kevric smiled. Only Hagrid would think to call a Red Cap a 'lil tyke.' Yes, clearly Hagrid had a different idea of what constituted a dangerous creature.  
  
"Shackleton is keeping the lot in his office."  
  
"Oh, right. Then, I'll just be bringin' him along."  
  
Now that someone else had tasted the fudge, the girl was willing to take a piece. Kevric was able to finish the exam before she was able to open her jaws.  
  
"Just in time. Let's head outside and find those hippogriffs."  
  
When Tom tried to again pick the girl up, Kevric shook his head.  
  
"Tom, she needs to walk by herself. The exercise is good for her."  
  
He could see Tom wasn't happy with the idea, but didn't openly argue. When they reached the fresh sunshine, it became clear that exercise wasn't the only thing the girl had been lacking. Her hiss at the bright sunlight, before darting back into the shadows, reminded Kevric of a few vampires he had had occasion to meet.  
  
"Hippogriffs like the sunshine. If you want to meet them, you are going to have to come outside.  
  
The girl scowled at him a moment, but followed along. As they were crossing the lawns, the girl stopped and took notice of the trees in the opposite direction. He explained the situation to her easily enough.  
  
"That's the Forbidden Forest."  
  
"That's a pretty name."  
  
When she turned to walk that way instead, Tom seemed pleased to have an excuse to scoop her up.  
  
"We can't be letting her wander off into there."  
  
Tom quickened his pace to avoid a response. As he followed after them, Kevric easily overheard Tom Riddle's words to the girl. There was a reason Tom never took the Care of Magical Creatures elective.  
  
"Why anyone would want to learn about these beasts is beyond me. Half bird, half horse, all nasty, foul smelling. Those things should be destroyed as a service to wizard kind."  
  
Now that they were at the edge of the fence with the rest of the class, Tom put the girl down. Despite the boy's words, Kitten seemed quite excited and eager to meet the hippogriffs.  
  
Loud enough for the whole class to hear, he began speaking.  
  
"Hippogriffs are beautiful and majestic creatures. They can be gentle and loyal companions. However, they are extremely sensitive. They enjoy praise and compliments. They do not respond well to insulting remarks or rudeness. In dealing with hippogriffs the first step is to get eye contact."  
  
He held up a finger for each step as he listed them.  
  
"Once you have eye contact, step two is to slowly bow. You want to bow deeply enough to expose the back of your neck to the hippogriff. You are presenting your weakest, most vulnerable part, and averting your eyes, to show yourself to be truly defenseless. It is done as a show of trust."  
  
His eyes wandered over the group. Failure to pay careful attention to the details in his class was a dangerous behavior. One that could often lead to loss of life or limb. Usually one of his limbs. By now all his regular students were well aware of that danger. He just wasn't so sure if little Kitten was listening to his words. Her eyes certainly weren't taking any notice of him. Her gaze was fixated on one of the hippogriffs behind him. The hippogriff was staring back at her raptly. He raised a third finger as he continued speaking.  
  
"If the hippogriff doesn't bow back, you should quickly move away because he or she is likely planning to take advantage of the opportunity and decapitate you. If the hippogriff does bow back, than it is probably, but not definitely, safe to approach it."  
  
Running out of fingers, he changed hands for point number four.  
  
"You want to continue making slow, deliberate motions. Speak to the hippogriff in a calm, soothing voice and stroke the feathers in a gentle, downward motion. If a hippogriff really takes to you, he may allow you to mount him. Its highly unlikely anyone will advance that far on the first day.  
  
Now who would like to go first?"  
  
Kevric couldn't help but agree with the protective way Tom held Kitten back. Best to let her see a few others try first. Once the rest of the class was happily paired off, he approached Kitten and Tom.  
  
He had deliberately left unmatched the hippogriff the girl was interested in. Tranquility was one of the hippogriffs in the herd that was most comfortable with humans. She had actually been born in the now forbidden forest. Kevric, with the help of the young assistant groundskeeper, had rescued her from a vicious attack by a thestral in which her mother had been killed. At the time only a trusting young foal, months of repeated healing charms and hand feedings had not only gotten the hippogriff back to health, but had helped develop a close bond between Tranquility and her two caretakers.  
  
As for the thestral, well Hagrid, Merlin love and protect the boy, had refused to kill it. Of course it couldn't be allowed to roam free near the school feasting on student's pets and forest creatures, so instead Hagrid had captured it. Several years had passed, but the boy still hadn't given up on his attempts to tame the beast.  
  
Kitten already had the first part down. Her gray eyes were still locked with the hippogriffs black ones.  
  
"This one's name is Tranquility. Would you like to get closer and pet her?"  
  
The little girl seemed mesmerized. Her nod was almost imperceptible.  
  
"We need to see if she would like it too. Can you bow to her?"  
  
The little girl gave a curtsy which he supposed technically might be a bow, but didn't at all show the back of her neck. Kevric started to correct her, but oddly enough the hippogriff didn't mind. Tranquility bowed back.  
  
Kevric was a bit disconcerted at the hippogriff's unusual behavior, but decided to let the girl continue. Given her recent experiences, he tried to speak to her on that level.  
  
"You like to be petted, right?"  
  
The girl looked at him like he was the silliest thing in the world.  
  
"It's nice when people pet you the direction your fur grows. But, I bet it feels kind of funny when people pet against your fur."  
  
The girl agreed to this enthusiastically.  
  
"I scratch them when they do that."  
  
He had to suppress a laugh.  
  
"I bet you do. Feathers are like that too. So pet her downwards."  
  
Tom looked very apprehensive as his Kitten moved forward.  
  
Tranquility closed her eyes with a contented look as the girl began stroking her feathers.  
  
"You should talk to her in a calm, soothing voice. Hippogriffs like praise and compliments."  
  
The girl smiled at the magical creature.  
  
"You have very nice feathers. My fur is nicer, but -"  
  
The hippogriff still had her eyes closed and was leaning into the girl's touch, but Kitten's words were a bit on the offending side. Kevric interrupted her to repeat his earlier instructions.  
  
"Hippogriffs do not respond well to insulting remarks or rudeness."  
  
The girl looked right at him before speaking. She still wore a happy smile and gently stroked the creature.  
  
"You are a nasty, foul smelling -"  
  
Normally hippogriffs respond rapidly, but Tranquility hadn't even opened her eyes by the time Kevric grabbed at the girl to pull her out of harm's way. His sudden action seemed to spur the usually docile hippogriff to action, but confuse her. Instead of striking at the one who made the offending remark, Tranquility's talons slashed at the arm trying to move the girl away.  
  
Kevric soon found himself face down in the grass, pinned by one of the hippogriff's feet. He looked up in time to see the hippogriff's eyes close again as the girl continued gently stroking the feathers in a downward motion.  
  
Young Kitten offered him a bit of his own advice.  
  
"You upset her. You should make slow, deliberate motions."  
  
When Tom managed to persuade the girl to move away from the hippogriff, Tranquility tried to follow the girl. No longer trapped, Kettleburn tethered the hippogriff before dismissing the rest of his class. The other children seemed a bit disconcerted by the girl's behavior.  
  
Kevric was well versed in healing and cleansing charms and easily took care of his wounds on the walk back to the castle with the girl and her escort. He was concerned, but not at all angry when he spoke to the girl. Hippogriffs were designated XXX and were a bad choice by him for the girl's first lesson.  
  
"I think we should hold off on the Care of Magical Creatures lessons until we can work on our listening skills a bit."  
  
The girl seemed upset at the news.  
  
"I want to see the puffskeins tomorrow."  
  
"Well, you will need to show me you have learned how to listen before I can bring you to my class again. I need you to follow my instructions when I give them."  
  
"I listened very well. I did exactly what you said to do."  
  
Kevric frowned at the girl.  
  
"Did I tell you to say mean things to the hippogriff?"  
  
The girl lied without any hesitation.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You definitely need to practice telling the truth before you can come visit my creatures again."  
  
The girl's eyes flashed indignantly. She seemed to be struggling to find the right words to respond. When she came to a decision on how to resolve the discussion, Kevric yelped in pain.  
  
Tom reprimanded the girl as he pulled her away.  
  
"Kitten, no biting people! Stop that!"  
  
Kevric shook his head while repeating the charms on the spot where the girl had broken his skin. Quite the temper on that one.  
  
##########################################  
  
Auror Alastor Moody had his back to Headmaster Dippet as the aged man spoke in an assuring tone.  
  
"The most unfortunate event earlier this morning had nothing to do with the young girl's presence."  
  
Moody wasn't trying to be rude, he was listening.  
  
"The incident was nothing more than a prank, an initiation rite, by some of the older students on the Potions Master. Master Pomfrey has worked in alchemy for years, however this is his first year of teaching. Apparently, there is some sort of a competition in the NEWT level class as to who can explode the most cauldrons and ruin the most potions."  
  
He heard the words, but his eyes were concentrated on the scene playing out on the other side of the window. Were he called before the Wizengamot, Alastor Moody was confident enough in what he had seen to be able to testify that the girl had set a hippogriff on the Care of Magical Creatures professor.  
  
He reached for his wand, but of course from this distance, this height, he could not be sure of his aim. In his moment of inaction, the boy from yesterday got the girl to move away from the hippogriff. The hippogriff trailed after her, allowing the trapped professor to get up.  
  
"Mr. Moody? Mr. Moody, have you heard a word I have said?"  
  
*********************************************  
  
##########################################  
  
Binns sat down behind his desk. He took a moment to look at the girl seated in front of him before he began to speak.  
  
"Miss Grindelwald, it has been brought to my attention several times now, by several different sources, that you have been biting people. I know it is hard for you here. It isn't easy for any of us. Do you think you are the only one that has these urges?"  
  
Not really concerned about her answer, Binns didn't pause to allow for one. As he continued speaking, his voice became distant and his mind drifted.  
  
"I assure you, you are not the only one. Many a time, I have had the desire, the primordial urge to bite people; unruly students, bothersome parents, colleagues who simply do not understand me, dismissive superiors. I have frequently and at great length thought about biting them all."  
  
Binns's speaking broke off entirely for a moment before with a shake of his head, he refocused his attention.  
  
"However, it is not something we generally do."  
  
Binns had an uncertain look as he glanced to the empty doorway. He had instructed Mr. Riddle to remain outside while he spoke to the girl. Finding no one there, a sly smile settled over his features.  
  
"Which isn't to say you can't bite people. Just that there is a time and a place for it."  
  
He glanced again to the door.  
  
"That time is when you are around Professor Shackleton. And that place is, well it is wherever Professor Shackleton happens to be. Do we have an understanding?"  
  
The girl looked slightly confused, but nodded her head. Binns opened one of the drawers in his desk. He took out a sugar quill from a box he had confiscated during his last class. It had come from one of the students he fantasized so often about biting. He held it out to the girl.  
  
"We should keep the contents of our little chat between the two of us."  
  
He rose from his seat and went to the door. Mr. Riddle was talking to one of his classmates across the hall. As soon he appeared in the doorway, Mr. Riddle immediately broke off the conversation and returned. Binns held up a hand to halt him before he could enter the office.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, when it is necessary for you to be in Miss Grindelwald's rooms or vice versa, the door is to be kept open at all times. We do not wish to give even the appearance of impropriety."  
  
The Riddle boy frowned, but nodded.  
  
"And she is not to be in your rooms after hours or vice versa. Really, there is no reason at all for the two of you to be in either set of rooms. That is what we have a common room for."  
  
The boy began to argue with him.  
  
"But sir, she isn't used to having to sleep -"  
  
Binns frowned and spoke over the boy.  
  
"- Mr. Riddle, this conversation is over. I have already been late to one meal today. I have no intention of being late to another."  
  
********************************************  
  
Late that night, Binns was on his way, under duress, to make certain the girl had not again returned to Mr. Riddle's rooms. He didn't end up having to go that far. As he was crossing the common room, he found them. Mr. Riddle was asleep, sitting up on one of the sofas. The girl was also asleep, curled up across him.  
  
Binns sighed. This was not what he had meant when he had told Mr. Riddle, 'that is what we have a common room for.' Still, they weren't bothering him. And it wasn't as if anything untoward would go on in the house common room. For fear that if he did bother them, they would again bother him, he chose to simply leave the room.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N Completely slipped my mind when I answered the question posed about whether Amelia Bones in Chapter 27 was the same one who later serves on the Wizengamot, but its of worth to note, she is also related to the Minister of Magic Bones, who was casually mentioned in chapter 17 (FF refers to it as chapter 18) There was a quick line naming two of the Ministers of Magic that were murdered as being Bones and Malfoy.  
  
Thank you for reviewing Star, LinZE, jbfritz, Margo Wulfric, Redwoman06, Minerva Lea, Static-Filled Star, Rainqueen1, Mavidian, and Venusdemilo7537.  
  
People have commented often that my story or at least parts are pretty confusing, so I am trying to make more of an effort to answer questions left in reviews, except where they would completely give away parts of the story. No need to read further unless you reviewed.  
  
Venusdemilo7537 Glad you are enjoying the story so far.  
  
Redwoman 06 Nope, not Binns. Not to worry, I'm trying to make the chapters a little longer than normal so we can get back to the present shortly.  
  
Minerva Lea Probably another chapter or two before that question gets answered, but it will be soon.  
  
Rainqueen1 The secret weakness thing will have a slight something to do with the flashback scene shown, but nothing that you could pick up on yet. There have been other little clues thrown in that could completely give away that scene, but no one has picked up on them yet. Or at least if they did, they haven't mentioned it in a review.  
  
Margo, Rainqueen1, & Mavidian   
  
My Dumbledore will improve with time, but in general, he is a more human and fallible than Harry's. I adore Dumbledore, but my opinion is that Harry's perspective on things is very slanted. Harry misses, glosses over, or misunderstands a lot of things in the books. Don't expect to at all times agree with the decisions made by my characters or even like the characters for that matter.  
  
Margo  
  
I am definitely going for a causes and connections theme. The title of the story really states three main ideas that hold throughout the length of the story. (Though you probably cannot yet appreciate them) Misconceptions are a big part of the tale. You'll see more of that going on between Tom and Dumbledore in the next few chapters. While Tom has already shown us he is evil, as Dumbledore said in Chapter 5, "sometimes what we see of a person, what they choose to show us, is just one side of who they are." While I in no way deny Voldemort is evil, as the story progresses, you may begin to see at least some of Tom's evil actions are just horribly, horribly misdirected attempts at something else. Dumbledore once told Harry something to the effect that what made him different from Voldemort was his capacity for love. But just because Voldemort doesn't love in the same selfless, noble way that Dumbledore does, doesn't mean he doesn't love.  
  
I got the original idea for the story from the prophecy aspect of OOTP. We have seen divination to be such a precarious art. I thought it would be interesting to show another character with a set of prophecies around them and show how people interpret and possibly misinterpret the prophecies.  
  
A lot of the rest of my story ideas stems from little questions or oddities I had from reading the books. Things as easily explained as why does Hagrid feed the children something that locks their jaws together to slightly more complicated things like how did house elf Dobby manage to leave Malfoy Manor to warn Harry or why does Harry have the shortest lifeline Trelawney has ever seen.  
  
Back history of events like Severus's revenge for the shrieking shack incident, how James Potter's invisibility cloak came into Dumbledore's possession, why Voldemort saw Harry as a threat instead of Neville, the truth about what happened to Bilius Weasley, and the origins of Peeves are all weaved into the story in such a way as to also provide more information about the main character of the story, Minerva McGonagall.  
  
I've filled over a dozen notebooks with the storyline I have plotted out so far. It has a very definite plan that goes from the past all the way to the end of Harry's sixth year when the stories of the past catch up to the present. The plan so far doesn't really resolve some of the issues of the book series, such as the fall of Voldemort. Though I may change my mind by the time my writings get to that point, I had thought that best left to JKR.  
  
Though I have been adding little details here and there and some parts are more than a bit underdeveloped yet, the plot is well enough set that I have already written some of the most important chapters even though they won't occur until the first war with Voldemort.  
  
Okay, I've rambled too much now. 


	30. Chapter 30

A/N thank you Maria for taking the time to beta.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Albus Dumbledore watched as all but two of the students in his NEWT level class worked on the transformation. Tom was too busy staring daggers at him to concentrate on the assignment. As for the other non-participant, well Minerva Grindelwald was asleep at her desk.  
  
Had it been History of Magic, such behavior would be expected. However, Dumbledore was confident he put on a much more interesting and interactive class. Supposedly, Binns was ensuring the girl went to sleep at an early enough hour that she would be well rested for the next day. Whether Binns actually did any such thing was an entirely different matter.  
  
Ever slightly more likely, was the possibility that the girl's tiredness was caused by the potion she was made to drink twice a day. Repeated doses of mandrake potion were known to cause drowsiness and fatigue. Still, for the moment, they hadn't a better alternative. He only briefly considered trying to wake her before deciding to allow her to continue sleeping.  
  
Only after the bell rang did Tom manage to tear his eyes away from Dumbledore. The girl woke up just long enough to wrap her arms around Tom's neck as he carried her out the door with the rest of the class.  
  
"Professor. Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
Dumbledore turned, surprised to discover not all of the students had left. Collecting himself, Dumbledore offered the young lady standing before him a welcoming smile.  
  
"Miss Bones. Excellent work today."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
The girl looked as though something were troubling her. Not an entirely uncharacteristic look for her during the past year. Her father's murder had naturally been quite unsettling to her.  
  
Dumbledore walked around to the other side of his desk and sat at one of the empty student desks. Miss Bones sat at a desk beside him. He watched her nervously pick at the edges of her clear nail shine, but said nothing, allowing her time to collect her own thoughts. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she did speak.  
  
"Sir, don't you find it odd?"  
  
When she paused uncertainly, Dumbledore smiled reassuringly.  
  
"Indeed, I couldn't agree with you more. It is most peculiar."  
  
Amelia Bones smiled. It was an occurrence that was once again becoming common for the Hufflepuff Head Girl, after a long period of rarity.  
  
"I haven't told you what I find odd yet."  
  
Dumbledore tried to make a face that properly conveyed a sense of surprise, as though that thought had not yet occurred to him.  
  
"Ah, but I know you to have excellent skills of appraisal on such matters."  
  
His jovial expression became fixed and forced as the girl expanded upon her statement.  
  
"Don't you find it odd that Tom had a kitten named Kitten that went everywhere with him and now that kitten is gone, but there is a little girl named Kitten that goes everywhere with him?"  
  
He could feel Amelia Bones's eyes searching his face for some sort of reaction. Indeed, Amelia was generally a very good judge of character. Less than two days and already the cracks in Dippet's master plan were showing. He knew he had to answer quickly to distract the perceptive young girl, but Dippet's suggested explanations were too incredibly flimsy.  
  
"The cat Tom was taking care of belonged to the family of a muggle boy who was here for a short time."  
  
"Thomas McGonagall."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. It was so much easier to get someone to accept, to believe an untruth if rather than tell them it directly, you let them draw the conclusion themselves.  
  
"The McGonagalls requested their cat back."  
  
That was not at all a lie actually. He had once overheard Shackleton ordering Binns to find the cat.  
  
Amelia looked slightly uncertain as she tried to draw a conclusion from his statement.  
  
"So they left their daughter here, but took the cat back?"  
  
Dumbledore tried to show his indifference with a shrug.  
  
"Well, you certainly won't ever see both in the same place at the same time."  
  
Amelia frowned. She was an intelligent young lady and clearly the story Dippet had come up with, well it was as poorly put together as one of Binns's better excuses.  
  
Dumbledore was more than a little surprised when Miss Bones choose not to press that aspect of the matter further. He was rather uncomfortable with the thought that it was only her trust in him that kept her from pursuing it.  
  
"Muggles are so…" She wrinkled up her face in disgust. " …odd. Naming their pets and their children the same thing. And what kind of a name for a girl is "Kitten'? At least use a girl's name like 'Susan' or 'Emily' for both."  
  
The girl shook her head at the thoughtlessness of muggles for a moment before moving back to more serious matters.  
  
"I don't understand why anyone would leave their cat with Tom, but I guess it's just a cat."  
  
Again her eyes were boring into him, seeking some answer.  
  
"But why is the girl with Tom?"  
  
Dumbledore's frown matched Amelia's expression and was not at all forced.  
  
"That was the Headmaster's doing. The girl was sorted into Slytherin and Tom is in Slytherin. Dippet thought as Head Boy, he could handle the added responsibility."  
  
"I could help her get to her classes."  
  
Dumbledore didn't quite know how to respond.  
  
"That is a kind offer."  
  
Her remained silent after merely acknowledging the offer. Were it anyone else offering, he would have seized on the opportunity and brought the suggestion to the Headmaster. He felt despicable enough lying to Amelia at all, but the idea of requesting that Amelia Bones assist the girl without knowing that it was the daughter of the man who murdered her father was just abominable.  
  
Despite Dippet's assurances to the Minister that the matter could be kept quiet, all involved knew it was only a matter of time before the knowledge got out.  
  
He was aware that he would have a difficult enough time if he ever hoped to regain Amelia Bones's trust once that happened without her having that added betrayal.  
  
Amelia was a true Hufflepuff. He hoped that when the truth came out, she would still have the same charitable thoughts towards the young girl who was in no way at fault for Grindelwald's acts. Realistically, he was acutely aware this would not necessarily be the case. While Hufflepuffs were just, they were also fiercely loyal. As to which of the two characteristics would prevail in the end, he could not say.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
Dumbledore gave a slight shake of his head.  
  
"Headmaster Dippet claims to have his reasons for leaving the girl in Mr. Riddle's care."  
  
Certainly, the Headmaster had made that claim, but he refused to share those reasons with anyone else.  
  
Again he could see that look on Amelia's face, that troubled, strained expression. Her eyes no longer searched his face for a truth.  
  
"I just don't think she should be left with Tom."  
  
Immediately all other thoughts stopped. A cold chill overtook him as he shifted closer to the edge of his chair. It was his turn to search for the truth in a face that's eyes did not care to be met. He attempted to keep his voice even, but he wasn't sure of how well he managed.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Looking towards the window, not towards him, she gave her own shrug that like his failed to come across as indifferent.  
  
"No reason. I just, well, she's a girl and Tom's…not."  
  
Resisting the urge to reach out and gently turn her face to look in his eyes, Dumbledore peered at her over the half-moons of his spectacles. He managed to get his tone gentle and reassuring this time.  
  
"Miss Bones, Amelia, is there anything you'd like to tell me?"  
  
With only the slightest hesitation she shook her head.  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"Amelia, if Tom has done something, if you know of anything he has done, its very important that you tell me."  
  
He watched as this time she did hesitate a moment, considering. In the end, she again shook her head.  
  
"It's just odd, sir."  
  
She finally turned to look at him. Her eyes were troubled, but they weren't that troubled. More uncertain than anything else.  
  
"He's just…odd, sir."  
  
*********************************************  
  
###########################################  
  
Professor Tofty grasped the edges of his desk with both hands to steady himself.  
  
"Try again, dearie. Only this time, just the feather."  
  
Watching the other half of the room float from the 'Wingardium Leviosa' spell this time, Professor Tofty gave a weak smile to the small child before him.  
  
Muggleborn, his arse. He didn't know how the hell Armando Dippet had managed to conjure up another one and he certainly wasn't going to ask, but muggleborn his arse!  
  
********************************************  
  
##########################################  
  
Armando Dippet looked up as Master Viinder entered his office without knocking.  
  
"Are you aware that in some cultures, it is considered common courtesy to knock?"  
  
His wonder was short lived as Mr. Riddle and Miss Grindelwald entered behind him. Whatever had the girl done now?  
  
"Master Viinder, Mister Riddle, Miss McGonagall. To what do I owe this pleasure?"  
  
"Armando, you need to see this!"  
  
Dippet tensed as the overly excited Divination Master reached for the girl's hand, but young Mr. Riddle averted any potential problems by stepping in the way.  
  
"I explained to you already, sir. She doesn't like strangers touching her."  
  
The young professor nodded and motioned Riddle to do it.  
  
"Right, right."  
  
Riddle settled the girl in one of the empty seats before the desk and held her hand out, palm up. At Master Viinder's beckoning, Dippet rose from his seat and made his way around his desk.  
  
Master Viinder allowed him only a moment before prompting him for a response.  
  
"What does it mean? What is she?"  
  
Dippet traced a finger over the girl's palm. Over the spot where a line should be, but wasn't. The girl had no life line. It wasn't that she had a particularly short one or a thin, brittle one. She just didn't have one.  
  
He of course knew exactly what it meant. She was never intended to be born. It was only through entirely unnatural means - unicorn blood - that Grindelwald or Artemisia had managed to keep her alive. Something he could hardly explain to the other man.  
  
Instead, Dippet shrugged.  
  
"It signifies nothing."  
  
Master Viinder not surprisingly frowned.  
  
"Not even combined with this?"  
  
The young diviner produced a deck of tarot cards. He displayed all seventy-eight on the desk. He showed all to be face down with their decorative backs showing, not the figures on the other side. He then restacked the cards and shuffled.  
  
It was Viinder's custom to have the one for whom he was doing a reading cut the deck. With a slight prompting from Mr. Riddle, the girl did so.  
  
Immediately, the problem became clear.  
  
The direction of the topmost cards had changed. Now if Master Viinder were to place down the top ten cards for a reading, he would not be showing any of the informative figures, but instead be dealing out the same design that was depicted on the back of all the cards.  
  
"Well? What do you make of it?"  
  
Dippet noticed Mr. Riddle was also looking at him inquiringly.  
  
"Master Viinder, the hour is not yet even half over. Have you left your class unattended to come here?"  
  
The young professor ignored the rebuke.  
  
"I let them all go early. Explain this."  
  
Dippet frowned and turned an inquiring gaze to Mr. Riddle as the young professor summoned a tea service. When Riddle merely gave a slight shrug of his shoulders in response, he turned his attentions to the girl.  
  
Surprisingly, the tea set did not upset her this time. Master Viinder in his babblings soon explained.  
  
"Muggles are so destructive." The young professor shook his head exasperated. "When I first tried to give her a reading, she started smashing all the tea cups. Absolutely barbaric; muggles can't even have a proper afternoon tea."  
  
Well, at least it was good to have substantiation that the girl's behavior could be altered. How Master Viinder had managed such a happening would be good to know for future use. Dippet was soon revolted to discover the exact methods used.  
  
He watched as the professor put a dozen cubes of sugar into a teacup and then half filled it with milk. Seeing Dippet's horrified expression, Master Viinder explained as he filled the small space remaining with tea.  
  
"It is the only way we could get her to drink it."  
  
Dippet felt positively ill watching the girl drink the concoction that could no longer be defined as tea. When she was through drinking, Viinder displayed the empty teacup triumphantly.  
  
"Look, no leaves!"  
  
"Naturally there are no leaves. There was no tea in it."  
  
Dippet watched Master Viinder frown. After a moment, the divination instructor acquiesced. He began to prepare a new cup without sugar or milk.  
  
However, when he held it out to the girl, she turned away refusing. Mr. Riddle too tried to coax her, but to no avail. Finally, in desperation, Master Viinder held out both the teacup and the entire dish of sugar.  
  
"If you drink the tea, you can have all the sugar. Just not in the tea."  
  
That offer got the girl's attention. She appeared to contemplate the matter for a moment.  
  
"And the milk."  
  
Master Viinder made no attempt to haggle. He quickly handed over the milk as well.  
  
Once the tea was gone, Dippet stared transfixed as the child began putting cubes of pure, unadulterated sugar in her mouth. Merlin save us all, even Dumbledore wasn't quite that bad.  
  
"Armando! Armando, look!"  
  
Finally he tore his eyes away from the child to look at the cup. There were again no leaves remaining. He really had to put an end to this and quickly.  
  
"Perhaps you failed to notice, but the girl is a bit odd. She probably ate the leaves."  
  
Master Viinder looked somewhat deflated.  
  
'She is a muggle-born, so I suppose anything is possible."  
  
Dippet did not fail to notice the look of outrage on Mr. Riddle's face. Whether it was at the slight towards muggle-borns or towards the girl, he was not certain.  
  
Dippet gave a sigh of frustration. While he could understand the lack of life line, he had no idea what the other strange portents might mean. As he could hardly explain the matter of the life line to the other man and it would not do to allow him to continue speculating on the child….  
  
"Clearly all it means is that the girl dislikes divination. As such she will no longer be continuing in your class. Mr. Riddle will instead deliver her to me everyday for an early afternoon tea."  
  
The arrival at the door of the eager History of Magic Master was a most welcome diversion.  
  
"So, who did the little savage get this time? Was it Shackleton?"  
  
Dippet frowned.  
  
"Don't you have a class now, Master Binns?"  
  
That seemed to take a bit of the cheer out of the new arrival.  
  
"Yes, but they are…resting right now. I saw those two go by the door. Who did she bite this time?!"  
  
"This is an academy of learning, you people can not just keep canceling your classes whenever you feel like it! First Pomfrey and Kettleburn, now you two!"  
  
"Mr. Riddle, go to the common rooms and tell the other students to get back to their classes. Miss McGonagall will remain here. You may come collect her again after your lesson. Master Viinder, I would have a word with you downstairs in private. Master Binns, stay here and watch the girl until I return."  
  
After traveling down the passageway with the two young men, Dippet detained his divination instructor. He did not speak until Mr. Riddle was an entire corridor away.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, he is in your seventh year class? I have been around him much of late and I had not gotten the sense that he has the Gift."  
  
Armando Dippet found Master Viinder's response most interesting.  
  
"No, he does not. I do usually limit my seventh year class to only those with at least some ability of their own, but I made an exception in Tom Riddle's case. While not actually having the Sight, he does have a remarkable appreciation for the art. He seems to understand the potential importance of it. Something we both know to be quite unusual for one lacking the Sight.  
  
Dippet asked a question that had been bothering him for some time now.  
  
"Have you ever had any Visions regarding Mr. Riddle, his future?"  
  
Viinder seemed a bit embarrassed as he made an admission.  
  
"No. I have tried, but I never have."  
  
The disclosure did not at all take aback Dippet. The Gift did not work that way. It was often quite unpredictable in what and to whom it chose to show things. Besides, though Eres Viinder was a Seer, he was not an especially talented one. Certainly, if he were, he would not be in the employment of Hogwarts. The more Gifted diviners were routinely found in Ministry work or the private sector.  
  
Even the girl's father, Grindelwald, had been more Gifted than Viinder and engaged by the Ministry even before his abilities had been tampered with by Artemisia and later the girl. It was concern for what omens the girl might facilitate Master Viinder in seeing, that had made him decide it would not do to allow her to continue attending the Divination classes.  
  
"Have you? Had any Visions of Tom's future, that is?"  
  
Dippet did answer, but he chose not to elaborate.  
  
"Just one."  
  
After watching the Divination Master depart, Armando Dippet rode the revolving staircase back up to his office to see if Binns was dead yet.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N Next chapter will be up in a few days, I just got it back from being betaed. It continues right where this one left off and will include information on Dippet's vision of Tom's future..  
  
Just to clear up a few things that I wanted the reader to know by now that may have been missed in the roundabout way I went of revealing some things.  
  
Grindelwald was indeed a Seer in his own right. It's just that Dippet and Artemisia were much more powerful in that area than he was. The Sight is meant to vary in it's strength from person to person. Think of it this way, as much as everyone dismisses Trelawney, she has made at least two predictions and is considered a Seer.  
  
Through a blood marriage bond, Artemisia pooled her abilities with Grindelwald, allowing him to share in some of her Vision and visions.  
  
With Artemisia's death, the pooling of powers ended. Grindelwald's Sight should have and did revert back to its earlier Trelawney like levels.  
  
However, Minerva is what was once known as a foci. (Foci is just the plural of the word focus. Foci, however just happens to sound a lot more interesting and exotic) Dippet described it for us once as 'the unusual ability to take the powers and energies of another and before returning them, so concentrate, so direct them as to make them magnified far beyond what they normally would be.' She enabled Grindelwald to again enhance his abilities.  
  
Now a few things have not actually been stated that boldly, but merely suggested in passing to prepare you for their later revelation. When Dippet thought it was Grindelwald who had transfigured Minerva into a cat, he made a reference to wondering why ever Grindelwald would pick a creature so likely to bite and scratch people.  
  
Though Binns is fairly unreliable in some, well okay most, of the things he says, in a lecture he briefly mentioned the biting and scratching habits of vampires, werewolves, and some Themis. This will be expanded upon later in the story.  
  
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Thanks for reviewing Laura Kay, Darlingdearheart, Minerva Lea, Juliet's Rose, Morocco, and Margo.  
  
Darlingdearheart - I am very excited to see a new reviewer. I'm sorry to disappoint, but my name isn't Margo. I was just labeling who my answers were for. Hope that doesn't take away from the story for you!  
  
Margo - Quite a bit more will be shown about the relationship between Tom & Minerva so you will get to decide for yourself in the next few chapters. All predictions made will one way or another come true. Since the only possible narrator still available for the years Minerva spent with Grindelwald will never actually offer more than a few verbal tidbits, answers about him will be hard to come by and usually only implied. Eventually you will be able to decide for yourself if he was tampering with the future or merely acting the part he was destined to play. Everything else you have asked about will be dealt with in detail at their proper time.  
  
Juliet's Rose - Glad you are enjoying the story. Number of chapters remaining to this flashback is kind of hard to gauge at the moment. I will say that I hope to start churning out chapters a little bit more quickly and have the flashback ended if not by Christmas, than by New Year.  
  
Laura - Your compliments always leave me blushing. I'm delighted to know the earlier chapters have more depth now when you reread them. That is exactly what I am going for. And long reviews are my favorite. They let me know you are really enjoying the story if you take that long to reply. Also it lets me know if I am throwing you too far off of the track with some of the little misdirections I put in the story.  
  
Ch 29 - I think between this and especially the next chapter, you will have a much better idea of what influences Dippet's POV. I hope the part above cleared up the thing about Minerva's unusual ability. If not please do let me know. As for the animagus bit, well its not really considered one of the defining abilities for the Themis. Much like the ability to turn yourself invisible at will, it is something that can be learned and is not innate. Yes, that was a hint that Loki implied an untruth to Tonks in one of the early chapters.   
  
Ch 30 - As for the picture, what can I say? Could of, would of, should of. The portrait has already made it pretty clear that no one thinks to talk to him for a very long time.  
  
If you reread the section with Kettleburn (or a few of the other chapters) enough times, you might pick up on something that is there but that you are meant to gloss over.  
  
I think by the end of this chapter it will be pretty clear to you she has not yet gotten over her delight at sweets, but eventually there will be a reason given. 


	31. Chapter 31

A/N Thank you to Maria for doing a wonderful job as my beta.  
  
I'm looking for a little bit of advice on how to get italics to work on fanfiction.net. I generally write in Microsoft Works Word Processor and upload the file as a regular text file and in the process the italic ness gets stripped.  
  
I also have Microsoft Word but it seems to completely fugger with my spacing when I try to upload things written with that program. Anyways, if anyone has some advice please email me (mascaret_@hotmail.com) or leave a message in feedback. I'm coming to a part in the story where it is going to get very necessary to emphasize certain words and I would prefer not to write it like _this_ or *this*.   
  
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Once the door closed behind the Headmaster, Robert Binns was more than a bit disconcerted to be left alone with the little savage. Of course, he knew it would not do to let her know that. Children, like animals, could smell fear and it encouraged them.  
  
He approached the desk to prepare himself a cup of tea while he awaited the return of Dippet. It was only once he had poured the tea that he realized there was no milk or sugar on the tray.  
  
Already scowling, he turned to face the girl. Sure enough she had both. He reached out a hand towards the sugar dish, but pulled it back with a frown as she hissed and snapped her teeth at him menacingly.  
  
"Mine!"  
  
He stared back at her for a moment. After a feint to the right, he went in on the left and quickly took possession of the container of milk.  
  
Binns overlooked the fact that he had spilled almost all of the milk on himself and the carpet in his haste and choose not to note that the girl had made no attempt to stop him from taking the milk. Instead, he gave a shriek of triumph at having outmaneuvered the girl.  
  
The same ruse failed to acquire any sugar. Binns pouted and wagged his stinging finger in the air.  
  
"I only wanted one!"  
  
The dark haired devil looked him up and down as if assessing him. He watched as she picked up a single cube from the dish. For a moment, he thought she was going to offer it to him. And she did, but only after licking it.  
  
Binns frowned and narrowed his eyes. He would not be bested by a mere child.  
  
Ignoring the outstretched hand, he snatched the undefended dish of sugar.  
  
He added not one, but two sugars to his tea. Then he smirked at the girl as he licked another of the cubes. After putting the damp cube back in, he covered the opening of the dish with one palm and shook it, making it impossible to pick out 'his' cube.  
  
He returned the tainted dish with a superior look. The fiendish gray eyes remained locked on him as the girl's hand found the sugar tongs. Never taking her eyes off of him, never actually touching the cubes with her fingers, she selected a single one.  
  
Frowning, Binns allowed her to drop the cube in his hand. It was damp.  
  
Managing to scowl and pout at the same time, Binns began to drink his tea. He coughed, dismayed to discover his teacup was now almost entirely filled with tea leaves.  
  
He pierced the girl with his most austere frown. Still, he had to admit, if only to himself, she had a most infectious giggle.  
  
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After sending Binns on his way, Armando Dippet gawked at the girl as she ate cubes of sugar from the tea service tray. She was eight. The idea of nine more years of viewing that were too much for him to contemplate. He looked around the room for something to distract her. From one of the seldom used cupboards he produced a checkered board.  
  
"Can you play checkers?"  
  
The girl looked up from her rapidly being depleted sugar cube collection. She tilted her head looking at the board. Rather than answer the question, she changed the subject entirely.  
  
"I can play chess."  
  
Dippet frowned. True, the same board could be used for both, but that had not been the question.  
  
"I did not ask if you can play chess. I asked if you can play checkers."  
  
The girl was quiet a moment, as if she were considering the matter. Then she repeated her earlier declaration, albeit with a bit less enthusiasm.  
  
"I can play chess."  
  
"Wonderful, but can you play checkers?"  
  
Again, she paused. This time staring thoughtfully at her sugar cubes.  
  
"I can play chess."  
  
Dippet sighed before again speaking.  
  
"I do not like chess. Chess is not enjoyable. It is hard work. It is all about strategy and stratagems. You have to plan all your actions in advance. You need to know what everyone else on the board is doing. To anticipate their moves and counter them. You need to be both defense and offense. And you have to sacrifice some of your own. In chess, the people you lose, they have names. Chess is difficult.  
  
Checkers, you just cavort about trying to get to the other side. It doesn't matter how many get there before or after you, everyone can be King."  
  
Seeing the girl was not to be swayed by his words, Dippet gave up. He allowed her to redouble her efforts on the sugar dish as he kept watch on the clock for the time of Mr. Riddle's return.  
  
*************************************************  
  
When the time neared for Mr. Riddle's return, Armando Dippet instructed the girl to remain in her seat and headed to the stairs to have a conversation with Mr. Riddle outside of her range of hearing. He had not yet begun his decent when he realized his oversight.  
  
After hastily reopening his door, he crossed back to the shelf behind his desk. The not at all contrite scowl the girl fixed him with as he removed the only thing in the room that interested her besides the sugar cubes assured him he was not acting unwisely.  
  
"There, there now Mr. Keys. I will not allow her to eat you."  
  
He did not have to wait long before Mr. Riddle came dashing towards the stone gargoyles.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, we have not yet had a chance to speak at leisure. I must confess, I am quite curious about how much of this matter you managed to work out on your own."  
  
At the time, he would take Mr. Riddle's answers as truth. It was only much, much later that he would come to suspect the possibility that he may have been deceived. Even then, he never could be certain. As to whether that was the charm that was Tom Riddle or the failings of a desperate man seeking any hope to cling to, he could not say.  
  
What he could say, was that Mr. Riddle appeared quite earnest and sincere, even if a bit guarded.  
  
"The McGonagall boy, he told me that Kitten had done some unusual things."  
  
"So you suspected she might have been something other than a cat?"  
  
It was the young man's contrite, but frank admission that would at the time make Dippet believe completely in his words. Even the boy's body language was perfect, the way he held his head down.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
There was the briefest of pauses during which Armando Dippet wavered in his confidence. Ever since the attacks a few years ago in which a student had lost her life, he had suspected something about Tom Riddle. There was a reason why he had so readily allowed Master Dumbledore to convince him to retain Rubeus Hagrid as assistant groundskeeper.  
  
It was not without cause that Dippet had never discarded the pieces of the wand that once belonged to young Mr. Hagrid  
  
Despite what he suspected about Tom Riddle, he was confident in a person's ability to choose to change their path in life. Mr. Riddle had at the very least lied to him in saying he knew nothing about the attacks happening at the school. At very worst, well he did not care to speculate on that. What was important was that even if his worse suspicions about Mr. Riddle had been true, with support and encouragement, the boy could change.  
  
That was very important in regards to Tom Riddle. Despite what he suspected about Mr. Riddle, there was something else of which he was sure. He had only ever seen a small bit of Mr. Riddle's future, but it was to be an immeasurably important future.  
  
Yet with all of his own suspicions, with Dumbledore's constant suggestions, and now with the boy's own admission, Dippet could not help himself from doubting the future he had seen.  
  
Then the boy held his head up and looked him straight in the eye and restored all of his confidence.  
  
"I thought she was a kneazle."  
  
Dippet concentrated on the young man before him. This situation was difficult, but Master Viinder's praise of the boy had given him encouragement.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, this girl…"  
  
He frowned struggling internally. Exactly how much could he say, what could he allude to, without causing problems with the future? All too well now, he could understand the plight of Grindelwald. How simple, how elementary it seemed to solve the whole predicament with a few well chosen words or a swift action. And yet, if history had demonstrated nothing else, it had shown that such simplicity was not to be had. Invariably, when those with the Sight sought to act directly to alter later events, the consequences were most unkind.  
  
He knew he should say nothing, yet already what he could See was ghastly. Many times now, he had Seen the same Vision of what was to be that he had spoken of with Artemisia during their after dinner walk so many years ago.  
  
Still, he had not seen the 'why,' the reason why a fully grown Minerva would wander the halls of Hogwarts slaughtering all the adults that she crossed paths with. He had however, Seen many additional details in the intervening years. Where as before, he could See the students and then that they simply were no more, he now knew what was to become of the children of the school. The fate of the children was still quite alarming, but he found some hope, some comfort in the knowledge that she was not to simply exterminate them out of hand as well.  
  
His greatest hopes, however, lay with Mr. Riddle. In his Visions, he had Seen that it was to be Tom Riddle who would finally put an end to her murderous rage.  
  
It unsettled him slightly that he had never Seen any other part of the boy's future, but it signified nothing really. The Gift was capricious in what it chose to reveal. Nevertheless, Dippet would have found reassurance in knowing some more of the boy's future.  
  
But that Mr. Riddle was to be the one to end the carnage, he had no doubt. Now Armando Dippet found he desired more of the young man. If Mr. Riddle were to be the one to finally stop the girl, might it not be, certainly not likely, but perhaps possible, for him to prevent her actions all together?  
  
No, he knew he should say nothing, but he would speak regardless. He would keep his words as few and as indirect as possible, but he would convey the importance of the matter.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, your destiny and hers, they are intertwined. I have Seen things…things that are to happen. They are to be horrible things…it is to be your responsibility to end them…This, I have Seen.  
  
I tell you this because it is my hope that you may even be able to prevent them from occurring."  
  
Armando Dippet faced the boy. Mr. Riddle did indeed seem to have an appreciation for the art of Divination. He was alert and attentive to every word. He looked directly into the boy's eyes, stressing each word as he continued.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, you are the one, you are the only one who can stop these things."  
  
When he allowed the young man back into the room to claim the girl, Armando Dippet was confident that his message had gotten through.  
  
  
  
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A/N In the last section I wanted to give you something of an explanation and a motivation behind some of what Dippet has been or will be doing. It's important to note that you are seeing Dippet's view of the talk including his inner monologue. Riddle only hears his words. It might be worth taking a second look at exactly what Dippet said and being aware of it without the context Dippet provided you with.  
  
Thank you for reviewing CEA, Minerva Lea, LinZE, Joyce2, and Laura Kay  
  
Laura Kay Most of your questions should be answered pretty quickly.  
  
Joyce2 For the foci thing, I tried to write a response to your comment, but it came out far too confused sounding. Suffice it to say, the word when used in the ability context is intended to be different than the muggle usage and is singular. When I gave the explanation in parenthesis I meant it only as the origin of where I got the word, not necessarily where the characters got the word. If that doesn't make sense just tell yourself the excuse I use whenever something doesn't quite come out right - A wizard did it! Either way, I'm just happy the problem got you to leave a review telling me you are enjoying the story and think it is excellent.  
  
CEA *blush* 


	32. Chapter 32

A/N Thanks once again to my beta, Maria.  
  
Pogrebin is a small Russian demon that stalks humans, projecting a sense of despair onto its prey with the objective of getting them to fall down sobbing. If they do, the less than a foot tall Pogrebin will attempt to eat them. They are classified as only XXX because they are easily gotten rid of with any spell or even kicking.  
  
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"How is the girl doing in her classes?"  
  
Armando Dippet paused to consider the visiting auror's question.  
  
Master Shackleton had told him that he wasn't even sure the child could read or write. When Shackleton had given her parchment and a quill, the girl had tried to eat the quill.  
  
Master Tofty reported that the girl had not yet mastered the elementary 'Wingardium Leviosa' incantation.  
  
Dippet had himself barred her from attending any further Divination lessons.  
  
Kettleburn had banned her from attending his classes, quite an accomplishment considering she had never actually been enrolled in one.  
  
That Pomfrey was not there to give a testament of her abilities was evidence in and of itself.  
  
"She is adjusting quite well, Mr. Moody. She does particularly well in the History of Magic course."  
  
The auror glanced to Dumbledore in response to the Transfiguration Master's unconvincing attempt to mask a chuckle with a cough.  
  
"How about your class, Dumbledore? Has she shown any talent in Transfiguration?"  
  
Master Dumbledore managed to look both chagrined and amused as he responded.  
  
"I'm not entirely sure. She hasn't actually been awake during my class yet."  
  
The auror looked troubled by the revelation.  
  
"You let her sleep through your class?"  
  
"I only let her do it once." Dumbledore went on to admit, "But then, she has only had my class once so…" Dumbledore offered an amused shrug.  
  
Moody frowned.  
  
"You of all people should be taking this situation more seriously, Albus. Have you forgotten the prophecy? Your life is in danger!"  
  
Dippet looked on as Dumbledore rolled his eyes. Master Viinder was indeed correct, appreciation, understanding of the potential importance of the art of Divination was quite rare in those not themselves gifted with the Sight.  
  
"Alastor, she is a child. I refuse to treat her any differently than I would any other student."  
  
Mr. Moody continued to frown.  
  
  
  
"I know she is only a child. For Merlin's sake, I'm not suggesting you take Artemisia's advice and -"  
  
Involuntarily, Dippet's eyes darted to the center drawer of his desk. There he kept a store of potion for the times when his Visions kept too long at bay the respite of dreamless sleep. Since the revelation of the girl's presence at the school, he had added next to that store a different sort of sleeping draught. A painless poison from which there was no wake.  
  
"-Kill her, but you should recognize her as a possible threat. Certainly the Minister sees her as a potential danger and he expects me to provide him with a thorough report of her abilities and progress.  
  
Dumbledore held up a hand to stay the auror's onslaught.  
  
"Alastor, she is in a late morning class of mine tomorrow. If you care to speak to me by Floo or stop back again, I will have information for you."  
  
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Armando Dippet felt more than slightly ill, having watched the child again begin eating cubes of sugar upon her arrival for afternoon tea. As he looked on, he could feel the beginnings of a headache forming at the edges of his mind.  
  
He half believed the child could sense it too and desired to prey upon the weakness. Or perhaps, it was the added energy from the sugar. Either way, she began to swing her legs and made a quite grating pattering noise by hitting the heels of her shoes against her chair legs.  
  
"Do not hit your chair."  
  
The girl's attention had been wandering the shelves. At his words, she turned to face him. The swinging and the noise continued.  
  
Dippet repeated himself slightly louder.  
  
"No more kicking your chair."  
  
She looked directly at him, but not only did she not stop, she seemed to be doing it more.  
  
Exasperated, Dippet barked loud enough to disturb the portraits lining his walls.  
  
"Stop kicking this instant!"  
  
The girl looked startled, but not at all contrite. She tilted her head, looking at him as if her were a great curiosity. Speculating that perhaps it was boredom that was making the child so disagreeable, Dippet offered a suggestion.  
  
"Would you like to play a game of checkers?"  
  
"I can play chess."  
  
Not this again. Dippet sighed.  
  
After a minute without a response, the girl took a sip of her milk and then went back to her sugar.  
  
"No more milk and sugar, it will ruin your dinner."  
  
In direct contradiction, the girl picked up the creamer of milk. She poured enough milk into the sugar bowl to almost cover all of the cubes. Dippet shuddered as she used the spoon from her teacup to eat the blend as if it were cereal.  
  
Dippet was startled a moment later to hear another voice.  
  
"Please tell me that I am not actually seeing this. That isn't really a bowl of sugar you are letting Kitten eat?"  
  
Dippet turned to the newly arrived Care of Magical Creatures Master. Though he was not at all pleased with the girl's conduct, he really had no interest in discussing it with Kettleburn.  
  
"Please tell me that you did not just enter my office without knocking. Is there a purpose to this visit, Master Kettleburn?"  
  
"I need your signature on my Pogrebin order."  
  
As Dippet took care of the necessary forms, he observed Kettleburn's interaction with the girl. While certainly it was unfortunate that the girl no longer held Master Kettleburn in favor, Dippet found it nonetheless reassuring to see that being difficult was not a behavior she set aside exclusively for him.  
  
"Hello Kitten."  
  
The girl's only response was a turn of her head, apparently to avoid the unwanted sight before her.  
  
Ignoring the slight, Master Kettleburn persisted.  
  
"Are you enjoying your classes?"  
  
After an uninterrupted pause, Kettleburn gave a sigh.  
  
"Well, I guess you just want to be left alone."  
  
That managed to get a steely response from the girl.  
  
"I just want to see the puffskeins."  
  
Not the best of ideas Dippet realized, considering the way the girl looked at Mr. Keys. Cats were known to eat puffskeins.  
  
"We've already talked about that. Only people who tell the truth can see the puffskeins."  
  
The girl tilted her head inquiringly.  
  
"Than how can you see them to tell people where they are?"  
  
Dippet smirked down into the parchment at the roundabout way the girl had called the Care of Magical Creatures Master a liar.  
  
Kettleburn's sigh told him he was not the only one to make the connection.  
  
"You may not see the puffskeins right now."  
  
The extremely contrary girl became quite animated and her voice sounded incongruously hopeful.  
  
"Right now?"  
  
That's what I said."  
  
Dippet wasn't really sure why the girl left her seat. Kettleburn continued speaking.  
  
"Maybe in time, when you have worked a little on telling the truth, then and only then, will I let you see the puffskeins."  
  
The girl's expression changed and her purpose for rising became clear. As she snapped at the young man, more directly she repeated her earlier comment.  
  
"You are a liar!"  
  
It was Dippet's turn to sigh. This biting habit was very disturbing on so many levels.  
  
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Albus Dumbledore gave a small frown watching the girl again curl up and go to sleep immediately upon entering his classroom. Small children and cats required more sleep than most seventh years and it would seem she had designated the Transfiguration time slot to be her nap hour. Moody would be coming today to get a report on the girl's progress. Beyond her animagus ability, which he could not mention, he had no idea of her knowledge of Transfiguration. He really should wake her, but she looked so comfortable.  
  
As he walked by her desk, he left her a button.  
  
When all the other students began the exercise, it became clear that Tom Riddle was again planning to spend the hour glaring at him with malevolent blue eyes.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, unless you have a question about the theory of the spell, please transform your button into a beetle and begin."  
  
When Tom in no way acknowledged him, Dumbledore approached. Enough was enough. Today, he intended to have everyone participating in his class.  
  
"Tom, get started. Miss McGonagall, it is time to wake up."  
  
Even before he began trying to rouse the girl, Tom was furious.  
  
"Leave Kitten alone!"  
  
When he gently shook her shoulder, Tom looked ready to have a fit.  
  
"Don't touch her!"  
  
Tom ignored Dumbledore's reproaching look.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, concentrate on your own studies."  
  
"Leave her alone, she's tired."  
  
Dumbledore had to admit, the girl certainly did seem tired. His slight shaking of her and the raised voices around her didn't seem to be doing anything to wake her. Just how late was Binns allowing her to stay up? If she was that tired, he would only ask her to give a try or two to a simple transfiguration, such as the button to beetle spell. After that, he would let her go back to sleep, but he needed to have something to tell Moody.  
  
Though the raised voices didn't seem to be getting the girl's attention, the rest of the class seemed to be very interested. Tom seemed to note it because he lowered his voice to a malcontent whisper.  
  
"She's tired almost all the time lately. If you want her to be awake, stop drugging her!"  
  
Dumbledore knew there was much truth to Tom's words, but for the moment they hadn't a better alternative. He reached out and shook the girl slightly harder. Her eyes finally fluttered open and she gave a displeased hiss.  
  
"I would like you to try the beetle transformation."  
  
The girl stretched unhappily and looked around a bit confused. Dumbledore spoke again.  
  
"I know you are tired. I just want you to try the beetle transformation once and then you can go back to sleeping if you like."  
  
The girl blinked and again looked around hazily. Still looking incredibly dreamy, she pulled out her wand. As she raised the wand, Dumbledore realized he had been so distracted by his exchange with Riddle that he had overlooked two very important things. First of all, he had neglected to tell the girl the words to the spell. Secondly, he had failed to get her to notice the button he had left on her desk.  
  
He tried to get her to wait, but he was too late. Powerful words had already been spoken and a bright light was rapidly reaching out to him.  
  
With an almost inappreciable clatter, Dumbledore's six feet touched down on the floor.  
  
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A/NI briefly mentioned something earlier about it being important to remember that at the time of these events taking place, Dumbledore only has his own thoughts and insights to work from. Dumbledore collected these memories from the various people later, in most cases decades after the events that are now being related. He presented them to Harry and is now in his own mind himself 'reviewing' the events in sequence.  
  
It is important to keep in mind that Dumbledore is not the only one operating under this limitation. For the most part, all the various players are or shortly will be keeping vital information from the others for various reasons. More often than not unless it is specifically indicated to the reader that information was shared, assume it hasn't been.  
  
As the reader begins drawing conclusions, don't be surprised if for this very reason the other characters do not yet or even ever reach the same conclusion.  
  
Just a few examples of information not being shared would be that Binns is obviously not likely anytime soon to tell the others that he is encouraging Minerva to bite, feeding her sugar quills, and allowing her and Tom to sleep together in the Common room at night. Kettleburn, Madame Griselda, Dumbledore, Dippet, Binns, Shackleton, and Pomfrey are all not telling Moody that Minerva is an animagus. Moody, Dumbledore, and Dippet were all present to hear the predictions left by Artemisia and Grindelwald's last words, but Dippet only ever yet spoke of his own predictions in the presence of Artemisia and Grindelwald.  
  
It is going to get more and more important to be aware of exactly who is in attendance when conversations and events take place.  
  
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Thank you for reviewing Laura Kay, CEA, Elayne Sedai, LinZE, and Punurple  
  
Laura Kay - Ack! The speech and dislike of chess was actually Dippet's. Minerva gave the same answer 'I can play chess' each time Dippet asked if she knew how to play checkers. I edited it to add a few words to make the speech being Dippet's more clear. Dippet's speech about his reasons for disliking chess is intended to directly contrast with his actions.  
  
Elayne and Punurple Thanks for the advice on getting italics to work. If it's alright, I might come pounding down on one or both of your inboxes in the next few days for further clarification. I fear I am barely computer literate.  
  
CEA Dippet fears too actively attempting to alter the future. He wants to change it, but he knows - and the reader will quickly learn - such direct action does not always end as planned. Though, as you can see in this chapter, it is a thought that has, not idly, crossed his mind.  
  
LinZE - Armando Dippet will, in time, explain his reasoning for everything and while the reader may disagree with it, it will have a certain logic to it. 


	33. Chapter 33

A/N Thank you once again to Maria for taking the time to beta this.  
  
For the next few chapters, the narrator for each segment is the first person whose full name is stated. A few segments are going to slightly overlap or be repetitions of parts of the same events, but from a different perspective. Hopefully, it won't be too hard to figure out.  
  
If you are taking the time to read this please take just a second more to review.  
  
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The experience was something that defied description. It wasn't that Albus Dumbledore couldn't tell what was going on, it was just different. The way he could see, hear, smell, feel - both physically and emotionally - it wasn't the same.  
  
In some ways it was more, in others less, and paradoxically, in some ways it was both more and less.  
  
His vision and his hearing were much more limited in range. Yet with his antennae, he could smell and, even just in the air, taste so much more than before. And feel; he could feel things as he never had before. The miniscule bristles running along his body were acutely aware of everything near him, and even the vibrations of those things approaching him. His emotions were both limited, allowing him to feel things less directly, and more true, more strong and primordial.  
  
As the assortment of books he had felt approaching landed around him, he was able to both strongly feel and keep in check his panic as he dodged and weaved around the many, in this form, potentially fatal blows.  
  
He couldn't really understand the words spoken at the time, but later he would be able to recognize the words Miss Bones spoke as she captured him in her hands.  
  
"Tom, you knocked those books over on purpose! I saw you do it!"  
  
The journey to the Headmaster's office was not exactly unusual, but he did experience it in an entirely different way.  
  
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Armando Dippet looked from the girl to the beetle, to Mr. Riddle, back to the beetle, to Miss Bones, back to the beetle, to his Deputy, and then back to the beetle Master Kettleburn was examining. This was not at all expected. Things were beginning to happen far too early and not at all in the way he had Seen.  
  
Master Kettleburn looked up from his examination of Master Dumbledore. "Well, he's a beetle."  
  
Master Shackleton was the one to respond. "We already had that much figured out. We were hoping you could be a little more helpful."  
  
Kettleburn shrugged. "What were you expecting?"  
  
Shackleton frowned. "You are the Care of Magical Creatures Professor! At least tell us what kind of a beetle he is?"  
  
Kettleburn guided Professor Dumbledore into a conjured jar. "He's…he's…I don't know, he's a beetle. I'm the Care of Magical Creatures Professor, not the Care of Beetles Who Seem to Have No Magical Ability Professor. For all I know, he isn't even really any known type of beetle."  
  
Master Shackleton pulled out his wand. "Oh, forget this. Finite In-"  
  
"No!" Dippet stopped him. "Not you. I want the girl to undo it. However, first we must understand the 'why.'  
  
Dippet turned to those who had been present in hopes of further information. "Tell me exactly what happened?"  
  
"Kitten-Professor-was-Dumbledore-tired-asked-and-that-Dumbledore-girl-wouldn't-to-leave-work-her-and-alone-she-he-turned-was-him-shaking-into-her-a-she-beetle-was-and-only-then-trying-Tom-to-tried-defend-to-herself-squish-"  
  
"Enough!"  
  
With the Head Boy and Girl talking over each other, Dippet couldn't make out a word either was saying. There were too many people in the room.  
  
'Thank you, Miss Bones, for bringing this matter to my attention. You may go now."  
  
"But sir, Headmaster, Tom tried to drop a stack of books on Professor Dumbledore. He tried to kill him!"  
  
Shaken, Dippet looked to Mr. Riddle. "That cannot be true!"  
  
Earnest looking as always, Mr. Riddle offered a plausible explanation.  
  
"I was startled when it happened, sir. I stood up, rattling the desk, and accidentally knocked over some books. It was an accident, sir."  
  
Dippet noticed the way that Master Kettleburn was looking at the Riddle boy. There was an unmistakable look of uncertainty in the young professor's eyes. It was there all the more when Miss Bones attempted to refute Mr. Riddle's statement.  
  
"That isn't what happened. Tom is lying!"  
  
Armando Dippet was not at leisure to have such doubts. He knew his faith had to be absolute. Even if Miss Bones's words were true, a child could have some failings, make some errors in judgment, and still in the end be penitent, and attempt to return to an earlier path. Our choices are our own, but even when the choice made was a poor one, there still existed a chance, a possibility that a later choice could restore a life path that was formerly discarded.  
  
Not that it was even a consideration in this instance. What Miss Bones had seen was not necessarily what had happened. Actions observed were often neither what was intended by the one acting or even what actually occurred. So many different possible interpretations could be had of any one action. What Miss Bones has seen or thought she had seen was not, could not have been what had actually occurred. What had occurred was merely an accident.  
  
"Thank you, Miss Bones, for bringing the matter to my attention. You may go now."  
  
"Sir, I -"  
  
"Thank you Miss Bones, I believe your next class is already in progress."  
  
He watched Miss Bones eye the other people in the room, as if looking for an ally, before finally agreeing.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Now that there was only one person speaking, the story was much easier to make out.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, what happened?"  
  
"Kitten was asleep and Dumbledore told her to wake up. When she didn't, he got mad and started shaking her. Sir, she was only defending herself."  
  
Kettleburn did not seem at all content with Mr. Riddle's account. If pressed, Dippet would have to agree that like Miss Bones, Mr. Riddle's interpretation of events was not likely to be precisely what had occurred. Kettleburn approached the girl.  
  
"Kitten, I want you to tell me what happened."  
  
The girl had appeared incredibly drowsy since entering the room. She had nestled next to Mr. Riddle, declining a separate seat. Even her response to the Care of Magical Creatures Master lacked some, though not all, of her usual fervor.  
  
"And I want you to show me the puffskeins!"  
  
Kettleburn frowned at the girl, but Dippet motioned him back before he could say anything more.  
  
Shackleton gave an adequate appraisal of the situation. "This is getting us nowhere."  
  
Dippet addressed the girl. Her eyes remained closed the first time so he had Mr. Riddle nudge her. Once her eyes opened, he repeated his same statement a second time.  
  
"I want you to turn Master Dumbledore back."  
  
The girl motioned to the beetle on Dippet's desk.  
  
"He said I could go back to sleep if I did it."  
  
Dippet frowned. "Well, I say you need to turn him back."  
  
The girl was growing quite agitated. "I want to go back to sleep! I already did what he wanted!"  
  
There was a steely quality to her voice and expression that told Dippet there was no use in arguing. He conjured into his office a blanket, pillow and a sofa more than adequate in size for the girl to recline on.  
  
"Fine, but when you wake up, you need to turn him back."  
  
The girl did not consent, but nor did she disagree. It was Master Kettleburn who interrupted before the child could reach her makeshift bed.  
  
"What are we supposed to feed him?"  
  
Kettleburn frowned at the girl's indifferent shrug before continuing to speak. "When you have a pet, it is important to take care of it properly."  
  
Dippet couldn't hide his disconcertion at Master Kettleburn describing his fellow professor as a 'pet.' Master Kettleburn merely shrugged.  
  
The girl considered the possibilities for a moment before hesitantly asking - "Lettuce?"  
  
When Kettleburn conjured a salad from the kitchens, the girl wandered over. She stuck a few pieces into the jar and Master Dumbledore began to nibble on one. The girl gave a delighted child-like squeal.  
  
"He likes it!"  
  
Dippet turned his attentions to his Deputy as the man began questioning his judgment.  
  
"So you're just going to leave Dumbledore like that?"  
  
Dippet tried to keep the uncertainty that he felt out of his voice. "Dumbledore himself said that no harmful, lasting effects were to be had from a transfiguration of a duration shorter than a few days. After the girl has rested a bit, she will be easier to reason with."  
  
"Do you really think so?"  
  
Dippet tried to look more certain than he felt. "Of course."  
  
When Kettleburn joined them, Dippet looked to see what the girl was doing. She was already asleep, curled up like a cat on the sofa. After Mr. Riddle fitted the blanket over her curled form as best he could, Dippet dismissed the young man to attend his remaining classes.  
  
Master Kettleburn was the one to temporarily break the silence. "You know, this situation isn't as bad as it could be."  
  
Shackleton was not the only one to look at Kettleburn mystified, but he was the one to speak. "In what possible way could it be worse?"  
  
"Well, he could be a dung beetle."  
  
Dippet sighed as the other men sniggered.  
  
*******************************************  
  
A few hours later, Shackleton exclaimed excitedly, "I think I just saw her eyes open!"  
  
Armando Dippet glanced at the girl, but sighed in disappointment to see such was not the case.  
  
Shackleton again protested. "Armando, exactly how long are you going to let this go on?"  
  
He was saved from having to again answer by another excited exclamation, this one from Kettleburn. "I saw it that time! She is just pretending to be asleep!"  
  
Dippet approached and as he made an inquiry of her, sure enough, the girl's eyes opened.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"I am lounging. I am still tired, so I am going to lounge for a while."  
  
Dippet was flummoxed. "How long will that take?"  
  
The girl shrugged impishly. "Probably all day. Cats are very fond of lounging."  
  
Dippet sighed as the girl yawned. "Dumbledore is still a beetle. You need to change him back."  
  
The girl gave a very feline like stretch while replying. "He wanted to be a beetle. He said for me to do it."  
  
"Well, I am telling you to change him back!"  
  
The girl looked right at him before defiantly replying. "It is what he wanted!" She again closed her eyes and snuggled into her pillow.  
  
Dippet frowned and returned to the others to wait for the girl to finish 'lounging.' The longer it went on, the more infuriated he became. When Mr. Riddle returned after his last class of the day, he was immediately sent out to retrieve the Slytherin Head of House.  
  
Binns looked guilty even before he could make an accusation. "Robert, the girl has been sleeping in my office for the better part of the day. Exactly how late are you allowing her to stay awake at night?"  
  
Dippet watched as for some unbeknownst reason, Binns stood on the tips of his toes to answer.  
  
"I assure you, I have been quite adamant at trying to enforce her bed time of eight o'clock! Perhaps if you would care to switch the hour of the daily sugar festival to earlier in the day, she would have a little more energy during the day and a bit less at night!"  
  
Dippet flinched at the element of truth to the only slightly younger man's words. With a sigh, he waved his hand to dismiss him. Instead, Binns spoke.  
  
"Armando, let me talk to the girl. I am, after all, her Head of House. Perhaps I can have some influence on the child?"  
  
Exactly what Binns was seeking to accomplish, Dippet was not sure. That it was not a worthwhile endeavor went without saying as it involved Robert Binns. Were Dippet not aware that the man's life was at stake, he would not ever have allowed the girl to be housed under Binns's care.  
  
It was, however, his hope that by spending time with the girl, by being around her, that Hogwart's own historian might be able to, for once, look beyond his own limited, even less than petty concerns. And in realizing what was going on around him, perhaps Binns would prevent an event from happening and with it, his own demise.  
  
Though he had Foreseen many great and terrible things that the girl was to do much later in life, Binns was running out of time far more rapidly than the others. And so, with more than a bit of trepidation, Dippet allowed Binns's request.  
  
He meant to keep an eye on Binns's conduct, but Mr. Riddle instead caught his attention. The young man had made his way over to the desk upon which the jar was set. He was tapping it. The action seemed to alarm Master Dumbledore who scurried about the jar.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, I don't believe Dumbledore likes it when you do that."  
  
Perhaps the boy was beginning to spend too much time with the girl; he continued with his tapping.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, when I say I don't believe he likes it, that means I want the action stopped immediately!"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
The look Mr. Riddle gave him in return might conceivably have been contrite.  
  
##########################################  
  
Robert Binns took a moment to carefully consider the question of why the girl was so tired.  
  
It wasn't so much that he was 'allowing', as it was that he wasn't disallowing the girl to sleep in the Common room with Riddle every night. Given that the other students insisted on remaining in the room, frolicking about until after midnight, the girl remained awake until then. The first of the early risers tended to pass through the Common room as early as seven in the morning and on their way out would either intentionally or unintentionally rouse the pair.  
  
Binns knew it would not do to admit these things. He drew himself up to his full height as if indignant at the implied accusation.  
  
"I assure you, I have been quite adamant at trying to enforce her bed time of eight o'clock!"  
  
It was always a good idea to give suspicions an alternative place to fester, so he continued in a rather accusatory tone.  
  
"Perhaps if you would care to switch the hour of the daily sugar festival to earlier in the day, she would have a little more energy during the day and a bit less at night!"  
  
Seeing by the Headmaster's flinch that his words were having the desired effect, Binns tried not to ruin it with a smirk.  
  
The Headmaster gave a sigh and waved a hand to dismiss him. Binns thought of a better idea.  
  
"Armando, let me talk to the girl. I am after all her Head of House. Perhaps I can have some influence on her?"  
  
He was sure Dippet would refuse, but after a long hesitation, Dippet nodded. Gleefully, Binns strode over to the girl.  
  
The girl yawned and rubbed her eyes in place of a greeting. Binns didn't mind, he had more important considerations. Crouching down to eye level with the girl and keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard, he began.  
  
"Ten points to Slytherin for a marvelous work."  
  
The girl just stared at him with an uninterested look.  
  
"I think you gave him just what he deserved. But I know someone else who deserves it even more."  
  
Truthfully, Binns had no real issues with Dumbledore, but nor had the Transfiguration professor ever done anything to particularly endear himself to Binns. Shackleton on the other hand…  
  
"You know Professor Shackleton?"  
  
The girl made a displeased face that warmed Binns's heart. At last, she spoke.  
  
"Your quills taste better than his."  
  
Binns nodded. He knew where this was going. A small price to pay for the girl's assistance.  
  
"You can have the whole box of quills in my desk, but in exchange, I want you to turn Shackleton into a beetle too."  
  
The girl motioned towards the jar on Dippet's desk. Binns turned and watched Riddle tap the jar with his finger. Merrily, Binns thought of what he would do to Shackleton. He had plans to tap as well, but with his feet and not on a jar.  
  
"He wanted to be a beetle. He asked me to do it. I gave him some lettuce and he's very happy there."  
  
Binns offered his most genuine imitation sincere look to the girl.  
  
"Shackleton wants to be a beetle too. He told me, he really did. Won't you be a good little girl and help him to be happy too?"  
  
He left the girl to contemplate the matter and returned to the others.  
  
"Well, I tried, but she simply won't listen to reason."  
  
Knowing it would look a great deal less suspicious were he not to be present, he quickly excused himself.  
  
"I should be getting back to my class. Do send for me if anything new develops."  
  
  
  
###########################################  
  
Even before Binns left, it didn't take any special abilities for Armando Dippet to foresee something very unpleasant was about to happen. The alleged reason for Binns's sudden departure was poorly chosen; Classes had already ended for the day.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N Thank you for reviewing Laura Kay, LinZE, CEA, HMT, and Margo Wulfric  
  
CEA What can I say, I had even more serious problems in the beginning. I finally gave up on the idea of naming the chapters. I've tried to shy away from answering the question of story length before because I would say your figure would be a too conservative estimate. I thought if I came right out and confessed that in the beginning I would scare everybody away.  
  
Margo This series of flashbacks will be ending slightly before the end of the school year. Basically we are just going to get to the point where we learn the circumstances and fallout surrounding Binns's failure to make it to the hereafter. Then we will jump ahead a few years for a quick chapter, possibly two, and then go back to the present. Harry will react to what he saw and spend a few chapters gathering new questions and unlearning half the things he should have already figured out. Eventually he will say or do something to spur someone to relate a series of memories about McGonagall and we will get another set of flashbacks to answer the questions posed by Harry. Once answered, we will return to the Harry's present to see how his classes are going and the same process will repeat itself again and again.  
  
I know this set of flashbacks has taken quite a bit of time, but I've tried to cut it as short as I can. Anything still in the story will have at least one or more relevant or corresponding scenes in the future, be it Harry's future or Minerva's. The problem is the clues, patterns, and character histories for all the rest of the story need to be put in now or the story won't make sense or will seem completely contrived later.  
  
Anyways, most of the questions you listed off about Minerva should be answered within the next four chapters.  
  
Laura What can I say, your idea is right on, but a few chapters early. 


	34. Chapter 34

Armando Dippet again attempted to persuade the girl to change Dumbledore back. Instead, she went to the desk and began adding more of the, by now, slightly wilted lettuce. She looked right at Dippet before again refusing.  
  
"He wanted to be a beetle. He asked me to do it."  
  
Dippet had had more than enough. "You turn him back immediately!"  
  
The girl's response was to lick her hand and turn away. Dippet moved to again be in her line of vision. "Turn him back now!"  
  
The girl again tried to turn to look away from him, but this time Dippet moved close enough to eliminate that as an option. The girl hissed in response. She was growing quite animated as she was forced to speak to show her displeasure.  
  
"He wanted to be a beetle. You should let him be what he wants to be."  
  
Kettleburn spoke in response to the possible implication of the girl's sound and words.  
  
"Is that because you want to be a cat and we should let you be what you want to be?"  
  
The girl's rising excitement became a bit more agreeable now that someone was finally beginning to understand her. "And I want to see the puffskeins."  
  
Dippet seized on that statement to Kettleburn's visible displeasure. "I will let you see the puffskeins if you change Dumbledore back right now."  
  
It appeared as though a fierce internal struggle was playing out within the girl's mind. It was clearly visible on her face. In the end, she seemed almost heartrendingly sad as she chose what she apparently believed to be Dumbledore's wants over her own.  
  
"He wants to be a beetle."  
  
Dippet took a moment to consider the matter. Perhaps he was going about this entirely the wrong way. He was about to attempt a different tack when a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.  
  
##########################################  
  
Alastor Moody stuck his head into the Headmaster's office.  
  
"Excuse me, I'm looking for Dumbledore. I was told he was in here."  
  
No one answered him, but he saw everyone glance at a jar on Dippet's desk. Moving further into the room, he noticed a beetle in the jar. A quick look around the room showed no Dumbledore. Again looking at the beetle, he suddenly had a realization about exactly why Binns had been giggling like a school girl while assuring him Dumbledore would be easy to catch in Dippet's office.  
  
"What the bloody hell happened?"  
  
He turned to look at the girl as she spoke. Her gray eyes glared at him, as with barely restrained fury she answered.  
  
"He was asking for it!"  
  
"He was asking for it?'  
  
Moody repeated the words while staring at the dark haired devil. Taking out his wand to end the transfiguration, he briefly wondered why no one else had.   
  
Dippet held up a hand in protest. "No, you cannot do that."  
  
Moody looked again to the child. She wore a most unbecoming scowl as she began shoving lettuce into the jar.  
  
He turned his attentions back to the Headmaster. "I don't understand. Is she too powerful? Are you not able to reverse the spell? There are potions that can do it. Dumbledore used one on her, isn't there anymore of it?"  
  
Nothing became clearer when Dippet shook his head. "I want the girl to be the one to do it." The Headmaster looked more than a little distraught as he continued speaking. "Please, everyone step outside. I wish to speak to the girl alone."  
  
Seeing Dumbledore's current condition, Moody didn't think that was a good idea, but the older man insisted. After a moment, Kettleburn whispered something to the Headmaster and began trying to guide Moody out of the room. "Come with me, Moody. I'll explain."  
  
###############################  
  
Armando Dippet was not at all pleased to see the auror arrive. This was not the kind of situation he wanted getting back to the Minister. He indicated with a mere glance and the tilt of his head for the Care of Magical Creatures Master to escort the auror from the room.  
  
Before doing so, Kettleburn leaned over to offer an alarming piece of advice.  
  
'Whatever you do, don't leave her alone with Dumbledore. Cats sometimes eat beetles."  
  
His Deputy had to practically drag Mr. Riddle to the door. Nor did the girl look at all pleased to see him leave.  
  
Dippet observed the girl. If she did not stop adding lettuce to the jar soon, there would no longer be room for Dumbledore to maneuver. He asked aloud a question, but he wasn't really talking to her, or at least not to present day her.  
  
"Is that the 'why'? Do you think what you do will make them happy in some way?"  
  
The girl, of course, had no idea what he was really talking about. Instead, she responded as if he were referring to what was going on now.  
  
"He wanted to be a beetle. He is very happy now."  
  
Dippet shook his head. He needed to make her see, make her understand that this was not the answer. He had to make her understand that Master Dumbledore was not in fact happy as a beetle.  
  
"I think he looks rather sad."  
  
The child glanced at him before returning her attentions back to the beetle. "He told me to do it."  
  
Dippet found this to be highly unlikely, but decided calling the girl a liar was not the best way to convince her to undo the transformation. "Well, I think he looks sad."  
  
The girl tried to refute his statement. "He has lots of lettuce now."  
  
Looking at the jar, there was no possible way to dispute that fact so Dippet tried another approach. "I think he looks lonely. He is living all alone in a jar."  
  
The girl seemed to find that to be a disturbing idea. She tilted her head and leaned closer to curiously examine the jar and its inhabitant.  
  
She offered no verbal response so Dippet pressed on. "It must be very sad living alone in a jar."  
  
From the girl's expression, Dippet could see his idea was working. He would give her another minute or two to contemplate the matter.  
  
####################################  
  
Alastor Moody again looked at the gargoyle statues. Dumbledore was a beetle in a jar on the Headmaster's desk. According to Kettleburn, Dippet's great plan was to try to reason with the girl and get her to change him back. And for how ever long that took, he was going to allow Dumbledore to continue as a beetle.  
  
Moody shook his head. This situation, these people, their reactions, it was all beyond belief. "I'm going back up there!"  
  
Deputy Headmaster Shackleton stepped in his way. "Dippet said for us to wait. He will send for us when he wants us."  
  
"And what if she already turned him into a beetle too? The girl is alone up there with him. How will he cont-"  
  
Shackleton interrupted. "Fine, I'll go up and see how they are doing. The rest of you wait here."  
  
  
  
Not quite appeased, Alastor Moody watched the other man disappear up the moving staircase.  
  
He couldn't quite make out the words that carried down to the not yet closed doorway, but the desperate tone was clear. Pulling out his wand, he quickly made for the staircase. He was not the only one trying for the stairs.  
  
"No, it isn't safe for students. Stay here."  
  
He allowed the other professor, Kettleburn, to go up with him for backup, but closed and sealed the doorway before the boy could follow.  
  
###################################  
  
Armando Dippet had allowed the child a few minutes to silently contemplate the matter. He was just about to again speak to her when the door to his office opened. Master Shackleton hadn't even time to get out any words of explanation for his disobedience before the flash of light enveloped him.  
  
Horrified, Dippet watched the girl add his Deputy into Master Dumbledore's jar. "What are you doing?!"  
  
The girl seemed quite pleased with her solution to the dilemma of Master Dumbledore's loneliness. "Professor Shackleton wanted to be a beetle too!" She looked at him and seemed startled by his expression. "He can be a little girl beetle friend for-."  
  
Aghast, Dippet interrupted her, "A girl beetle?"  
  
She had not merely changed Shackleton into a beetle, but a girl beetle. Dippet desperately tried to reign in his temper. In a much more calm and reasonable tone, he again spoke. "You cannot keep turning all of my professor's into beetles!"  
  
The girl looked right at him. She clearly heard his words, but as soon as the door again opened, Mr. Moody had to stop abruptly to avoid stepping on beetle Kettleburn.  
  
Dippet could contain his anger no longer. He bellowed at the girl. "Turn him back this instant!"  
  
The girl seemed startled, as if she found his anger peculiar. When the auror joined in on yelling at her, she too had finally had enough. "I want my Tom!"  
  
Yes, of course! Why hadn't he thought of that earlier? Surely, Mr. Riddle would be the one able to influence her to undo it. Dippet quickly sent Mr. Moody down to retrieve the boy from outside his office.  
  
Returning with not just Mr. Riddle, but Mr. Hagrid as well, Mr. Moody seemed taken aback. "You make the assistant groundskeeper walk your toad twice a day?"   
  
Ignoring the rebuke, Dippet watched Mr. Hagrid pause and greet the girl on his way to Mr. Keys' pillow. While Hagrid occupied her attention, he spoke to Mr. Riddle.  
  
#######################################  
  
"Hello Kitten. Are yeh startin' a beetle collection?"  
  
She nodded enthusiastically. "That one is Professor Dumbledore and that one is Professor Shackleton. Or maybe the other way around? And that mean man who yelled at me is holding Professor Kettleburn."  
  
Hagrid knew that Professor Dumbledore was bothered by the girl not liking him that first day that they had met at the school. "I bet Professor Dumbledore will be quite honored to hear yeh named one o' yeh beetles after him."  
  
"That is Professor Dumbledore. I changed Professor Dumbledore into a beetle."  
  
"Eh?"  
  
Kitten pointed to the jar. "Those two wanted to be beetles and he-" She pointed to Headmaster Dippet. "-wanted me to turn Kettleburn into one."  
  
"Professor Dumbledore wanted tah be a beetle?"  
  
Kitten nodded. "He asked me to do it. He made me wake up and he said, 'I would like you to try the beetle transformation.'"  
  
Hagrid shrugged. "Eh well, I guess that would be that, but do yeh think maybe he might o' been talkin' about another beetle spell?"  
  
Kitten tilted her head and stared at him curiously. "There is another beetle spell?"  
  
#############################################  
  
Dippet informed Mr. Riddle of what was expected of him, but Mr. Riddle did not seem to think highly of his idea.  
  
"It won't work." Riddle's tone as he continued speaking was almost admiring. "She won't listen, not to you, not to me, not to anyone. She never does what anyone tells her to do. Anytime someone tells her 'no' or not to do something, that's the first thing she does."  
  
Dippet knew this to be true. Why just a few minutes ago, he had told the girl she could not keep turning his professors into beetles. Her response had been to transfigure Kettleburn only a moment later. That she had left the auror untouched clearly showed she was being deliberately unmanageable.  
  
He was more than a little surprised to hear Hagrid join the conversation.  
  
"I don' mean to be interruptin', but are yeh sure when she does that, that well, she knows what yeh mean?"  
  
Tom was also surprised. "What are you going on about Hagrid? Don't be an imbecile. Of course she understands."  
  
The young groundskeeper turned crimson. He did however continue speaking, directing his words only to Dippet.  
  
"Well, sir, Professor Dumbledore, he said some things ter me after that first time I met Kitten in yer office. He said he thought she spent most o' her time in the care of elves. And well, I know sometimes when someone is talkin' ter me or if'n I'm readin' and I come to a word I don' know, sometimes I just skip over it. Most times, it don' change the story ter much, but sometimes it does."  
  
Dippet was still mystified. "Mr. Hagrid, I do not understand what you are getting at."  
  
"Well, sir, when's the last time a house elf said 'no' ter yeh?"  
  
Actually, it had only been a few days ago, but he now understood what Mr. Hagrid was attempting to say. In his more than two hundred years, that had been the first time an elf had ever uttered the word 'no' in his presence. Of course, there was still the matter of Grindelwald, but truthfully, at this point there was nothing that could be said that that man had done that would surprise him.  
  
The more that he thought about it, the more that it made sense. When the girl had been making that tapping noise with her shoes, he had told her 'No more kicking your chair.' Perhaps she had not been attempting to be difficult, but rather had the idea he wished more kicking? Certainly, she had seemed rather startled when he had bellowed for her to 'Stop kicking this instant!'  
  
Even the reason for the girl's strong reaction to Master Kettleburn's refusal to allow her see the puffskeins that day became clear. Kettleburn had told the girl, 'You cannot see the puffskeins right now.' If you removed the word not from the sentence, the girl's hopeful repetition of the words 'right now' while rising from her seat and her very passionate and toothy response to Kettleburn's subsequent seeming change of mind held a far different meaning. If Mr. Hagrid was correct, the child had perhaps thought that Master Kettleburn was deliberately taunting her.  
  
Dippet faced the girl. "Do you know what the word 'not' means? Or 'no'?"  
  
Defiantly she insisted. "Of course I do."  
  
Dippet felt wholly disappointed until he noticed the circumspect way the girl glanced to see Mr. Riddle's reaction.  
  
"Alright, please tell me what the definition is."  
  
It immediately became clear from the girl's expression that she did not in fact know. Rather than admit it, she seemed to prefer to become irate.  
  
"It means…it…it…it is like 'a' and 'the.' It just gets put there."  
  
Mr. Riddle looked quite furious to have been proven wrong by the groundskeeper. All the more so when Mr. Hagrid convinced the girl to return the beetles to human form.  
  
"Kitten, if yeh tell me that Professor Dumbledore asked yeh tah change him intah a beetle, I believe yeh. But maybe yeh should change him back for just a minute and ask him again. Just tah check and be sure he is still happy that way. Sometimes I think I want tah try something' new and then I find like the old better."  
  
The girl pursed her lips, appearing to very seriously be considering the matter. Dippet attempted to press her in the right direction. "If Dumbledore, Shackleton, and Kettleburn still wish to be beetles, you may of course change them back, but let us be clear that they are certain."  
  
At last, the girl consented.  
  
Though there did not appear to be any lasting damage to Master Kettleburn, Dippet was not so sure of the others. Master Shackleton was touching himself in a most ungentlemanly way and quickly left the room. And surely, Dumbledore had never before had such a shifty look about him.  
  
"Armando, what happened was entirely my fault. You cannot hold the child responsible. I was not at all clear with my instructions."  
  
As Dumbledore, unbidden, attempted to explain exactly what had occurred that morning, the Transfiguration instructor's hands darted out to snatch up some of the browning salad remnants on the desk. Dippet was disturbed to see the other usually quite refined, man put the wilted lettuce in his mouth and speak while chewing.  
  
"She misinterpretahed wha' I said, but I shoulda been cleara. I take full responsibilita."  
  
Dippet waved a hand dismissively. It had been a very long and trying day. He had no interest in hearing yet another version of the event and certainly not one with food spewing at him.  
  
"As you should Master Dumbledore. However-"  
  
Mr. Moody was not content to wait for a pause in the conversation. "The girl turned three of her professors into beetles! Two of them in your office while Dumbledore was already living in a jar! How exactly is that Dumbledore's fault? It's a miracle no one was hurt! Why, when the Minister hears-"  
  
Dippet attempted to give the auror his most withering gaze, but the man was too agitated to notice, so he too interrupted. "-Mr. Moody, I am willing to admit that this has been a most unfortunate incident for all of us, however, the Minister is an extremely busy man and I, for one, see no reason to involve him. Supervision of the girl will be increased. I shall personally ensure her Head of House will be seated with her at all meals and-"  
  
"-What about Dumbledore's safety? You heard the prophecy, what is to stop her from trying something like this again? If she catches him alone in class all she would need to do is-" Mr. Moody made a stomping motion with his foot.  
  
Dippet frowned and yet, perhaps this could be the solution to another problem that he was Foreseeing. He seized upon it as such.  
  
"I do not believe it will be necessary for the girl to continue in Dumbledore's class. Human to animal transfigurations are or are they not, one of the most advanced exercises offered in your branch of magic?"  
  
Dumbledore agreed readily while keeping eye contact with the plate. "Yes, but there are other equally valuable-"  
  
Dippet interrupted. "-Right now, I believe the girl's Transfiguration time period would be of greater use if set aside for the girl to have a lie-down. As for Mr. Riddle…"  
  
Dippet gave a meaningful look to the boy.  
  
"…if he should feel there is more knowledge to be gleaned from the study of Transfiguration, he may of course continue to attend-"  
  
Mr. Riddle picked up on his suggestion. "Actually, sir, I was strongly considering eliminating the class from my schedule. I have already had six years of Transfiguration with Professor Dumbledore and I feel I have mastered all that he has to offer."  
  
Dumbledore began to protest, but Dippet held up a hand. "Dumbledore, we may continue this conversation in private. Mr. Moody, if you have further concerns about the girl, by all means stay the remainder of the day and observe."  
  
This seemed to assuage the auror at least somewhat. Quickly, Dippet fixed Kettleburn and Mr. Riddle with the task of escorting the girl back to her dormitory and explaining to her the concept of the words 'no' and 'not.' He would have handled the matter himself, but quite frankly he had no idea how exactly to do it. Mr. Moody looked torn between following after them and waiting to speak to Dumbledore, but in the end departed. Once Mr. Hagrid departed with Mr. Keys, Dippet found himself alone with Master Dumbledore.  
  
Dippet was utterly disturbed watching the other man graze upon the lettuce that the beetles had not had a chance to finish while in the jar, so he stated his position as emphatically and as quickly as he could.  
  
"Albus, I don't want you to going anywhere near that child again!"  
  
Something, his words or his tone, seemed to have penetrated through. Dumbledore finally managed to tear his gaze away from the lettuce.  
  
"Albus, I have Seen things…things of the future…about you and her." He paused, considering how best to phrase his words. "You are a difficult man, Albus. Perhaps, that is not the best word, but what I mean to say is that you have your, your ideas and once you do, they are quite set in your mind. Getting you to change your mind, to see things, well, I mean people, I mean her, the girl, differently after you have set your mind on an idea of who or what a person is, well you are as near to impossible as can be without actually being impossible. I don't want you getting to know her now as a child and then getting that idea, that image caught in your head. You are difficult enough to induce in the future as it is, without adding any further obstacl-"  
  
Dippet frowned as Dumbledore interrupted him.  
  
"Armando, you aren't making a word of sense!"  
  
Dippet was entirely unsure how to express his thoughts. He had never been accomplished at speaking about affairs of the heart   
  
"Albus, I know the kind of man that you are. I do not want you to become attached, devoted if you will, to the child now. It would only serve to make you uncomfortable with later involvements, later courses of actions that I Foresee may transpire."  
  
"Armando, I absolutely refuse to believe that prediction about-"  
  
It had been quite a long day and he knew he was not doing anything like an adequate job of explaining himself. Finally, Dippet settled on just angrily retorting.  
  
"-I forbid you to go near the child again. You are dismissed."  
  
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A/NYeah, I know everyone hates the chapters with Divination in them because they are hard to follow. Chapter 37 is going to have a scene where Dippet explains to Moody why there was no prophecy for him, but other than that I won't have any more Vision chapters for a while.  
  
Anyways, last chapter there were a few things that the reader should have come away with from Dippet's internal monologue. When Dumbledore was first brought into his office, Dippet was surprised, but not at what was going on, just because he wasn't expecting events to begin so soon. He refused to have anyone else turn Dumbledore back because he wanted to use the incident to figure out his eternal question of 'why.' Ever since his introductory chapter, Dippet has been convinced that by figuring out the reasoning why certain unpleasant events happen, he can prevent them.  
  
Dippet isn't blind, he sees problems with Tom Riddle. However, he deliberately refuses to acknowledge them and finds excuses to reason them away in his own mind. His idea of offering extra chances and returning to missed opportunities is a valid one, but it's time has not yet come. Try applying it to a later dark haired Slytherin boy.   
  
Dippet's thought about Binns's time running out faster than the rest should prepare the reader for the fact that his death will be a separate and much earlier event than the larger event that he has also Foreseen.  
  
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Thanks for reviewing Tamora, LinZE, and HMT 


	35. Chapter 35

A/N Again thank you to Maria for taking the time to beta this.  
  
I haven't been getting much feedback lately so I thought I would offer up this little half chapter to see if it could elicit a few responses.  
  
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Albus Dumbledore was in no mood for company. He rose from his chair only when it became clear that the person knocking on his door was not going to go away until he answered it. Opening the door, he was not terribly surprised to discover the identity of the very persistent individual.  
  
"Moody."  
  
He saw the inquisitive way the young man was looking at him, but chose not to comment. There was a very probing look in the auror's eyes when he began to question him.  
  
"Albus, what the bloody hell went on today?"  
  
Dumbledore shook his head. Right now he didn't feel up to going over all the details. "It was a misunderstanding. A miscommunication on my part, nothing more."  
  
The look the auror gave him in return was not one of belief. "Is that what happened or what Dippet told you to say what happened?"  
  
Dumbledore merely shook his head. Since leaving the Headmaster's office, he had been quite troubled. He still refused to believe the prophecy made by Artemisia, but he was more than a bit disconcerted to find that Dippet too Saw the girl as a threat to him in later years.   
  
The meaning of the other man's words was quite clear. Dippet did not want him to develop a relationship with the girl now that might cause him to feel conflicted later were it necessary to battle against her.  
  
Dumbledore had little confidence in the validity of the 'art' of Divination and even less in Artemisia's motives for making the prediction. He had however always held Headmaster Dippet in a higher regard. Dippet was not usually prone to the theatrics often employed by other Seers. That Dippet truly believed…  
  
"Alastor, if you will excuse me, I would greatly prefer to be alone right now."  
  
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Alastor Moody tailed after the two children on their way to the Great Hall for the evening meal. The Riddle boy was carrying the girl. Minerva Grindelwald, Kitten McGonagall, whatever name you called her, there was something more than unsettling about the way the girl stared and hissed at him as he followed behind them.  
  
On entering the Great Hall, Moody noted that not surprisingly, Dumbledore was not at the Head Table. Earlier, Moody had briefly left the girl under the Magical Creature professor's supervision in order to drop in on Dumbledore. The man had seemed if anything even more disturbed than right after the reversal of the transformation.  
  
Moody himself still couldn't get over what had happened. Dumbledore tried to again take responsibility for the girl's action, but Moody suspected the claim was prompted more by Dippet than what had truly happened. He had the unmistakable impression that there was something he wasn't being told.  
  
The girl was eight years old. Moody didn't want to be suspicious of a child; he hated to think one could be capable of such things, and yet there was no mistaking the pure malice that had been in the girl's voice and words. 'He was asking for it!' As if there really existed an offense for which human transfiguration was an appropriate punishment.  
  
He had to keep reminding himself, this was no mere child. She was the product of a powerful curse and had been raised– no, that wasn't the word, 'tainted' or 'corrupted' would be better words- by one of the darkest wizards their world had seen in years. Her thoughts and behavior could not be expected to be in line with that of an ordinary child.  
  
When they reached the Slytherin table, Riddle finally set the girl down. He immediately had to grab her hand to keep her from wandering away.  
  
"We should sit at the table with the big cat pictures over it."  
  
The boy looked not quite angry, but certainly frustrated as he shook his head. "Do we have to have this conversation at every meal? We are Slytherins; we sit at this table. Only the silly Gryffindors sit at that table."  
  
More than a few of the nearby Slytherin students were beginning to give the girl unpleasant looks as she continued trying to tug in the direction of the other table. The looks matched well with those she had already been receiving from the students of the other Houses. Clearly the story had gotten out that she had transfigured the Heads of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff into beetles.  
  
"I want-"  
  
The girl's attention was diverted by the arrival of her own Head of House. "Show some House pride! Here-" Binns shoved a box at her- "Now for Merlin's sake, sit down and let's get this over with!"  
  
The History of Magic professor began filling his plate with various foods while mumbling an incoherent diatribe under his breath. Moody wasn't sure if the elderly man was even aware he was speaking aloud.  
  
Everyone else had begun eating by now, but the plate and goblet before Moody remained spotless. From his pocket, he produced a flask and took a swallow. The girl's plate too remained empty. She was working on a sugar quill instead.  
  
The professor paid her no attention, but Riddle seemed displeased. "Why do they keep feeding you candy?"  
  
When he took the confectionery quill away, the girl hissed at him. The boy had made no effort to stop her on the way to the Great Hall when Moody had been the target, but he attempted to correct the habit now. Somewhat.  
  
"Don't hiss at me. Hiss at the others all you want, but do not hiss at me."  
  
Neither the girl nor the boy seemed particularly upset. The boy pointed to a platter slightly down the table.  
  
"You like chicken. Try that."  
  
The girl swished and flicked her wand while calling out, "Wingardium Leviosa." A single roast chicken leg floated through the air.  
  
Before it could reach her plate, a boy across from her snatched a hand out and grabbed it. The girl scowled as the boy gave a hearty laugh and tore a huge bite out of the leg.  
  
As a voice cried out, "By Jove, now she's done it!" the boy began to clutch at his throat and cough.  
  
At first, Moody didn't really believe it. It couldn't really be happening. Surely the voice was wrong, it couldn't be the girl causing it. Moody looked back at the girl. She was still staring at the boy with that same scowl. Professor Binns seemed to have noticed it too. He sounded outraged as he yelled.  
  
"Stop it!"  
  
The boy dropped the chicken leg and used both hands to clutch at his throat. He no longer had even air enough to cough. Still, the girl didn't stop. Her scowl changed to an expression of interest and she continued staring at the boy. Binns again tried to reprimand her.  
  
"You stop that this instant! There will be no choking at the dinner table!"  
  
The professor's words had no effect on the girl. It was as if he was talking to someone else. Her gaze remained locked on the boy as his color changed from lack of oxygen. The aged professor was shouting desperately.  
  
"I said stop it! Five points from Slytherin!"  
  
Moody scoffed. As if taking House points away was really going to have an effect on her if she was willing to kill a boy over a leg of chicken. Her professor apparently thought so as he continued piling up the points.  
  
"Ten! Twenty!"  
  
The boy was now a very unnatural shade of blue. Time was running out and words were having no effect. Moody grabbed the girl out of her seat by the shoulders. He turned her to face him, breaking her eye contact with the boy she was wandlessly strangling.  
  
"Make it stop!"  
  
The boy was slowly dying. Not knowing what else to do, Moody shook her harshly, trying to break her concentration.  
  
"Make it stop!"  
  
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A/N Thanks for reviewing Mavidian and HMT. 


	36. Chapter 36

A/N Thanks again to Maria for taking the time to beta this.  
  
The first few segments of this chapter all take place at relatively the same time, it's just a difference of what each character happens to notice. In the last segment of this chapter, Dippet is the one that does all the speaking.  
  
Also, I don't do well writing poems or rhymes so in this story the Sorting Hat may come across as something of a disappointment. For the purposes of this story, the Sorting Hat only has seven songs and recycles through them. This allows for a different song for each of the seven years a student would spend at Hogwarts, but means some of the faculty and staff have heard the same renditions many times. The songs that Harry and company have heard in the future would be the same ones that Dippet has heard for years and quotes from.  
  
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Professor Tofty glanced over to the Slytherin table just in time to see the little 'muggle-born' flick and swish her wand. After seeing a single leg of chicken float through the air, he gave a cry of triumph.  
  
"By Jove, now she's done it!"  
  
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Robert Binns grumbled to himself while using his fork to stab his mashed potato Shackleton voodoo figurine. A quick look to the Head Table at the still healthy Deputy Headmaster dashed his faith in alternative magics.  
  
Still, he helped himself to another portion of potatoes and began work on a model of the Headmaster. Imagine the audacity of the man! Assigning him to sit at one of the kiddy tables!  
  
His outrage increased as one of the boys across from him began to cough. Binns discovered upon looking up at the perpetrator that the boy wasn't even covering his mouth as he coughed.  
  
This was completely beneath him.  
  
Binns pierced the boy with his most disgusted look. "Stop it!"  
  
When this did nothing to stop the boy, Binns had a horrifying revelation. The boy wasn't merely coughing, he was choking.  
  
"You stop that this instant! There will be no choking at the dinner table! I said stop it! Five points from Slytherin! Ten! Twenty!"  
  
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The boy was slowly dying. Not knowing what else to do, Alastor Moody shook the girl harshly, trying to break her concentration.  
  
"Make it stop!"  
  
The girl hissed in response but still kept her mind concentrated enough to continue choking the boy across from her. With time in short supply and no better idea in mind, Moody released one shoulder. He pulled his hand back, preparing to strike her open handed across the face when an unseen force grabbed and twisted his hand behind his back. Moody lost his grip on the girl as the force slammed him into the table.  
  
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Kevric Kettleburn looked from the Head Table's slightly elevated platform down at the commotion that was going on at the Slytherin table. Seeing that Binns was the only teacher near the incident, he rose and quickly made his way closer.  
  
He could not quite, but he could almost understand why all the children were just staring at the choking boy. And Binns, being well Binns, was taking points from the boy for choking rather than do anything useful. But he would have thought a trained auror would have had enough sense to take action.  
  
When Kettleburn was almost to the table, he saw the auror stand and take totally inappropriate action. If it weren't for the bright blue hue of the boy, Kettleburn knew he would surely be making his way to pound on someone else. It seemed Tom Riddle was having similar ideas.  
  
After two sharp blows to the back, a chicken bone flew out of the choking boy's mouth.  
  
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"Don't you ever touch her again!"  
  
Alastor Moody turned to discover the unseen force that had struck him had a voice, that of Tom Riddle. Riddle again held the child in an effort to sooth her hissing. As a chicken bone flew across the table he realized the choking had been caused not by any action on the little girl's part, but by the boy's laughing or lack of chewing or a combination of both.  
  
The awfulness of what he had almost just done hit him full force. He extended a hand while attempting to stutter out an apology. The girl again began hissing at him and the Riddle boy repeated his warning.  
  
"Don't you ever touch her again!"  
  
Now that the choking boy was no longer choking, the Magical Creatures professor turned on him angrily as well. "What the devil did you think you were doing?"  
  
The other professor, the very aged looking one, added his own appalled words. "Much as we would all like to, Dippet doesn't actually allow us to hit the children!"  
  
Moody again tried to stammer out an explanation. "I thought she was the one causing the choking." He turned to the old man looking for corroboration. "Someone yelled that she did it! You were yelling at her too! You said, 'There will be no choking at the dinner table!' You took House points away from her!"  
  
The young professor, Kettleburn, was the one to respond. He seemed to think his few angry words explained everything. "For Merlin's sake, this is Binns you're talking about!"   
  
Moody shook his head uncomprehendingly so the young professor again spoke to explain. "Binns was probably taking points off the boy for choking."  
  
Moody shook his head in disbelief until the old professor's next shocked words.  
  
"You mean…you mean she did it? She made the boy choke? Oh my!" The old professor's eyes grew quite large and he took a step away from the girl. As the Headmaster finally succeeded in making his way over, Binns attempted to stand behind him to remain out of the girl's line of vision.  
  
Moody showed all the remorse that he felt as the Headmaster fixed him with a most disappointed look before addressing the group.  
  
"This has been a most traumatic experience for Miss McGonagall. Master Binns and Mr. Riddle, please escort her back to her rooms. Mr. Moody, I would speak to you in my office."  
  
Watching the girl being escorted out, as horrible as he felt about what had happened or almost happened, Moody couldn't help but feel as if he were being played. After all, he wasn't deaf. He could hear the 'most traumatized' girl's concerns as Riddle carried her off.  
  
"But we have not had the sugar course yet! And my quills are still on the table! I need my quills!"  
  
Kettleburn didn't seem to notice how unphased the girl was by the experience. He chose to 'help' escort Moody to Dippet's office. On the journey, Kettleburn made certain Moody knew exactly what he thought of him. Moody might have pointed out what Kettleburn had missed were the man's words, not exactly how he felt about himself at that moment.  
  
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Armando Dippet looked at the auror seated before him in his office. Alastor Moody was not so young as he once was, but he was still quite young. Even now with the quite irate Master Kettleburn no longer in the region to berate the auror, Moody still looked ashamed. But then, with Mr. Moody's reaction today, there was every reason to look guilty.  
  
Master Kettleburn wanted the young auror's actions to be brought to the attention of the Minister. Master Kettleburn was far too simple of a man. He expected everything and everyone to be as straightforward and honest as the creatures he spent most of his days with. Master Kettleburn could not yet grasp the concept that rather than upbraid the auror, the Minister was more likely to commend him for his actions.  
  
No, relaying the incident to the Minister would not have any useful effect. But perhaps, perhaps something useful could come from the incident after all. By this incident and his earlier words, it was becoming increasingly clear that Mr. Moody firmly believed the prophecies Foretold by Artemisia. And it would seem Mr. Moody also believed in the lie Grindelwald had told. Perhaps he could help Mr. Moody realize something of the part which he was to have in all this.  
  
"Mr. Moody, you do understand the reason behind Artemisia's predictions and why there was no prediction for you?"  
  
What he asked was a question, but it was one to which he already knew the answer. Without waiting for the auror's response, he gently continued.  
  
"Grindelwald lied when he said Artemisia did not think you were important enough to bother with. You play quite an important part in what is to come."  
  
Despite the auror's lack of visible or audible reaction, Dippet knew his words were being heard, but not accepted.  
  
"What you must understand, Mr. Moody, is that Artemisia was hateful and cruel. She despised every one of us. Her one great delight in life was spreading misery and despair. Her predictions were meant to inflict upon us the most injury conceivable."  
  
Again Dippet paused to consider the young man before him. He could vaguely recall the young man's Sorting Ceremony years ago.  
  
Often Dippet wondered if Gryffindor and the other Founders would have reconsidered the way they divided the student population if they knew the labels that would come to persist amongst their Houses. While Rowena Ravenclaw might be pleased to have her students pigeonholed as the cleverest, what of the others?  
  
Salazar Slytherin's chosen ones were seen to be ruthless and inscrutable, overly determined, seeking to acquire their wants irregardless of the consequences for others. Gryffindor's were thought of for their courage, but it was mocked by the other Houses as a fool's daring. Most looked down upon of all were the Hufflepuffs. True they were paragons of justness and loyalty, but what stood out the most was the idea that the Hufflepuffs were merely what was unwanted, left over after the other three had had their fill.  
  
'Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest.' Those six words spoken by the Sorting Hat made it so ever after those of the Hufflepuff House had a need to prove themselves. Left with the image of being neither particularly clever, nor determined, nor brave, Hufflepuffs worked tirelessly, needing to be twice as good, twice as clever and cunning and brave as all the rest.  
  
Dippet could see all of those doubts and insecurities in the young former Hufflepuff seated before him. Oh, there was loyalty, particularly to Dumbledore, and a strong sense of justice in the idealistic young man as well. That Artemisia too had seen all those things, Dippet had no doubt. By seeming to exclude Mr. Moody, she had aimed to exploit those insecurities.  
  
"Mr. Moody, the prophecies were left to influence, to encourage each of us on the path to our own destruction and despair. That there was no prophecy left for you does not signify that you are not important. It merely signifies that Artemisia believed that not leaving you one would do more to hasten you on that path than anything she could say."  
  
That Dippet knew that the warning of his next words was one he had himself already several times failed to heed with the child, did not stop him from offering the same advice to Mr. Moody.  
  
"These things that Artemisia has said about he child, they are not yet true. I will not deny that they may become true, but I believe if they are to become, it is to be because of us, because of our own responses to the child. It is important to remember, though Artemisia was cruel and dare I say it, evil, this girl is merely a child and still readily open to influence."  
  
Dippet sighed inwardly as Mr. Moody took his leave. He feared his words had not had upon the other man the desired effect. Left alone, Dippet settled back into his chair to yet again remember the choice words Artemisia had left for him.  
  
'You will not live to see the day all your work will come to naught, but unrest assured, the day will come.'  
  
The meaning of Artemisia's words was, at least to him, quite clear. 'Your work' referred to his attempts to alter the events he had Seen, to prevent the slaughter of all those people. That it would 'come to naught' meant all his efforts were to be in vain. Despite any effort he might make, the girl's future was to be resolute, unyielding. 'You will not live to see the day' indicated he would be dead before the event finally occurred. 'Unrest assured, the day will come' was merely Artemisia further taunting him with her certainty that the event would occur.  
  
The possible interpretations of Artemisia's offering to Dumbledore were more numerous and more complex.  
  
'Kill the girl, Minerva, while she is still young. If you do not, she will one day have the power to destroy you. Before it is all done, you will kneel before her begging for life. If your plea is answered, you can expect to spend the remainder of your life in bondage and servitude to her and her line. She will have dominion over all that you hold dear.'  
  
Dippet was about to once again consider the meaning, to dissect the words referencing Dumbledore but instead his sight settled upon the vials within his partially open desk drawer. Pocketing one, he made his way up the staircase to his private rooms and the brief respite that the vial could offer.  
  
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A/N I had said that I planned to have this series of flashbacks resolved by Christmas or at the latest New Years. At the moment, that is not looking likely. When I said that, I had planned to be posting up a new chapter each day, but I have been holding back a bit on posting and writing given a lack of feedback. It seems from the lack of responses that most people have stopped reading. I will continue to post the next few chapters in the hopes that people have just been busy with the end of the school year or the holidays, but if interest doesn't pick up then I will be ending the story shortly and trying my hand at something else.  
  
Thank you to those who have reviewed: Zeo, CEA, and Margo Wulfric x 2.  
  
Margo (36)The shorter chapters are because I think they are easier to digest. The few long chapters were because I had a lot of information I needed to get out and couldn't find a really convenient place to break the story. I've since taken to just adding in the breaks regardless.   
  
(Chapter 35) Sorry I missed your review, it went up just as I was posting the next chapter. Dippet's character is a series of contrasts. He is one of those people that knows better than to do something, but can't help himself and does it anyways. Despite this story being a serialized fan fiction, I am writing it more in the form of a novel intended to be read in a few sittings. Things and people that don't quite make sense at first should begin to make more sense as you go along. If Dippet's words and actions, as well as his thoughts in the scenes he narrates, seem disjointed or in contrast with each other than perhaps there is a reason, something being slightly hinted at but not yet clear to the reader. 


	37. Chapter 37

A/N Thanks as always to Maria for taking the time to beta this.  
  
The errors in the Quibbler article are meant to be the reporter's errors.  
  
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On his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, Albus Dumbledore noticed a second year struggling to drag a trunk. While it was a few weeks before the end of term, it wasn't out of the ordinary for a student or two to leave early. Some less considerate parents habitually scheduled their summer holiday travels to begin before the official end of classes.  
  
Dumbledore helped the young man master the 'locomotor' spell before continuing on his own way. It wasn't until he reached the main staircase and looked down that he realized something was wrong.  
  
Amelia Bones had her own trunk levitated and out the door, but paused to help her young brother, Edgar, with his trunk. Mrs. Bones was occupied ushering out Amelia's even younger brother who, still in his night clothes, was protesting at the idea of going out.  
  
As if sensing Dumbledore's presence, Amelia looked up to meet his gaze. She knew! Even if the sight of the usually composed Mrs. Bones frantically calling at the school in the early morning hours to collect her children could really leave any uncertainty, the look in Amelia's eyes as they met his own was all that was needed to remove any doubt. His heart sank. Never before had Albus Dumbledore ever known himself to be the cause of such a look of hurt and disappointment.  
  
He didn't have long to endure the sight. Amelia quickly turned and followed out the door after the rest of her family.  
  
It was only after the Bones family departed, as Dumbledore made his way further down the stairs, that he truly caught sight of what was going on in the entrance hall. Literally dozens of concerned parents were clustered about. Many like Mrs. Bones were not allowing their children time to dress or even pack. Dumbledore recognized the younger parents as they were former students of his, but he didn't stop to chat as he continued towards the Great Hall.  
  
He made his way to the Head Table to speak to Dippet, but once there, he didn't even have to ask. Copies of the Wizarding and Muggle papers to which Dumbledore subscribed had already been delivered. While the London Times, The Scotsman, and the Daily Prophet were waiting at his place setting as always, his edition of the Quibbler was not there.  
  
"Congratulations, Dumbledore. You're front page news again."  
  
Dumbledore started to respond to Shackleton's remark, but Headmaster Dippet began speaking instead. Dippet disdainfully held Dumbledore's copy of the Quibbler by the corner and read off a portion of the article.  
  
'According to reliable sources at Hogsmeade School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it was recently discovered that within the castle a child has been living the past few months masquerading, as an ordinary muggle cat. While the idea of someone living in the form of a cat is in itself extraordinary enough, the child's identity will astound even those readers of the staunchest heart.  
  
After several rounds of firewhisky, this reporter's most reliable source let slip that the 'catgirl' is none other than Minerva Grindelwald. What's that you say, dear readers? Who's Minerva Grindelwald? Only the daughter of the dark wizard Grindelwald and the supposedly childless and deceased Artemisia Themis.  
  
The discovery was made by Hogsmeade's Charms professor, Albus Gawain Brian Dumbledore, whom readers and Chocolate Frog card aficionados may recall, was the wizard credited with the defeat of Grindelwald. Upon being confronted by Dumbledore with her deception, according to the most reliable source from within Hogsmeade, the girl became quite hostile and viciously assaulted the eighty-something year old professor. At the time of this printing it was still unknown if Dumbledore will ever fully recover.  
  
The disclosure of the existence of this previously undisclosed child leads this reporter to ask just what other secrets the Ministry of Magic and Minister Augustus are keeping from us. Is Artemisia Themis in fact still alive? Is Jupiter Grindelwald really imprisoned in Azkaban or is he still at large? Have the wizard eating Quintaped, also known as Hairy MacBoons, made it off of the Isle of Drear and on to mainland Scotland despite Ministry claims to the contrary? Brace yourself readers for the next issue as the Quibbler, exposes more secrets that the Ministry doesn't want exposed.'  
  
Finished with the article, Dippet threw down the paper. "You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? I'm going back to my office to deal with all the parents' letters and wait for the visit the Minister will undoubtedly pay us. Stay away from the girl."  
  
"Surely you don't suggest we should have left her as a-" Dumbledore's response trailed off as Dippet rose and departed.  
  
Shackleton picked up the discarded paper. "I can't believe you actually subscribe to this Dumbledore. I don't know which is worse, this or the muggle papers? Never mind that the facts are never right, this is just bad writing - 'disclosure of the existence of this previously undisclosed' and the writer used the word exposed twice in the same sentence."  
  
Handing back the paper, Shackleton asked a question to the table at large. "Really! Since when has Valhalla Pomfrey ever been reliable?"  
  
Looking over at Binns, Riddle, and Minerva Grindelwald seated together at the Slytherin table, Dumbledore came to a decision. He hadn't paid any heed to Artemisia's words and he wasn't going to pay any attention to Dippet's words either. Already today his relationship with one student had been damaged, almost certainly irreparably. He was not going to give up on trying to improve his relationship with this one. The only problem was since Dippet took her out of his Transfiguration class, he had no opportunity to interact with her. As the table's slight laughter died down over Shackleton's all too true comment about Pomfrey, Dumbledore formulated a plan.  
  
"You know, Shackleton, I have a few free periods today. It seems a shame to let all of Pomfrey's classes get behind, particularly his seventh years."  
  
Shackleton took no time at all to consider the suggestion before agreeing. "True, the NEWTS are practically upon us. It's been years since you were the Potion Master, but if you remember what to do and have the time, by all means."  
  
####################################  
  
Still frustrated at being ordered to take his meals at one of the kiddy tables, Robert Binns scowled at all the children near him. Actually, now that he looked, he noticed there weren't nearly as many as usual. With the publication of this month's Quibbler, a generous portion of the student population was departing.   
  
On his way here from the dungeons, he had encountered almost a hundred years worth of former students come to collect their children. Of course, only those parents who had actually attended Hogwarts in their own student days were allowed past the protective wards and charms around the castle. On owl orders some students were being forced to drag their belongings all the way to Hogsmeade to meet their anxious parents.  
  
Personally, Binns was glad the whole thing was out. It was hard work trying to remember which name to call the girl. Though he would deny it if confronted, he was quite certain that on more than one occasion he had called the girl by the wrong name.  
  
Right now, all he was anxious for was his breakfast. He began to look about for the platter of bacon. His eyes narrowed when they finally managed to locate it. The platter was at the Grindelwald girl's setting, placed before her the way everyone else had their plate.  
  
"Miss Grindelwald, pass the bacon over here."  
  
He knew the girl knew her own name, but she ignored his request.  
  
Under the mistaken impression that why she wasn't doing it was of any interest to Binns, Riddle attempted to explain.  
  
"Kitten doesn't like cold cereal or porridge. Bacon is the only thing served at breakfast that she will eat."  
  
He could see it was true. The bacon was indeed the only thing the girl was eating. But frankly, if it weren't for the fact that he wanted the bacon for himself, Binns really could not have cared less what she ate.  
  
"Well, tell her to stop it. She is going to have a heart attack before she is ten. I think I might have a heart attack just watching her."  
  
Clearly the girl's ears were not malfunctioning. At his words she made a very elaborate show out of eating her next piece.  
  
In his most daunting tone, Binns again spoke. "You send that bacon over here right now, Miss."  
  
That finally got the girl's cooperation. Binns smirked as she took out her wand. His smirk faded when it became clear her wand had not come out to levitate the platter. A carefully spoken incantation caused each piece of bacon to take the form of a miniature piglet. As a small group began milling around by his plate, Binns looked up to see the girl was now the one trying to contain a smirk.  
  
Despite knowing it was merely an animation charm like that put on Chocolate Frogs, Binns was quite revolted. Nevertheless, he would not again be bested by the child. It was bad enough she had ruined his tea the other day by filling the cup with tea leaves. She would not deprive him of his bacon.  
  
As she picked a piglet up and began to nibble on it, he herded several onto his plate. Binns picked one up, but the panicked squealing noise that only his piglet made was too much for him. Though he set it back down, he formed a paddock out of toast and oatmeal so that it and the others might not return to her.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
####################################  
  
*************************************  
  
As soon as the rest of his class was occupied, Professor Tofty excitedly made his way over to the girl he no longer had to pretend was a 'muggleborn.'  
  
"Well, let's see it!"  
  
With a swish and a flick, Professor Tofty's sense of triumph and accomplishment faded. He grabbed onto the little girl's desk to steady himself. The feather had floated, but half the room still went with it.  
  
"That's alright. Try it again."  
  
"Wingardium Leviosa!"  
  
This time the feather didn't float, but the other half of the room did. He was disappointed. He knew she could do it. He had seen her do it last night, but he didn't want to put too much pressure on the young girl.  
  
"That's alright. Keep trying."  
  
Tofty wandered the room helping the older students, but he couldn't help but keep glancing back to the girl every time he had to grab onto the nearest desk to keep his balance. Something wasn't quite right.  
  
Usually new students had difficulty moving the feather at all. He had seen through the 'muggleborn' story the girl's first class when instead of moving just the feather, she had moved half the classroom. Her lack of control just indicated she was exceedingly powerful and untrained. That wasn't it.   
  
About halfway through the class, he finally realized what it was that was wrong. Each time the girl 'accidentally' levitated half the room there was a uniformity, an exactness to it. She levitated precisely half the room.  
  
For the rest of the class he kept a careful watch. Sure enough, first the girl would do the left side of the room, then the right. Front, then back. She even split it into diagonal halves. When she quartered the square shaped room into four triangles and did two opposing triangles at a time, Tofty shook his head, amused. By the time she finished doing only those objects in the room with a height greater than and then lesser than a meter and a half the bell rang.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, you may go. Miss Grindelwald, I would like to speak to for a moment."  
  
To the protesting Mr. Riddle, Tofty raised a hand. "I will deliver her to you in the Great Hall in just a few minutes."  
  
He noted that Riddle chose to instead remain waiting immediately outside the door. Tofty used his wand to close the door. Turning to the girl, he spoke not at all crossly.   
  
"Miss Grindelwald, the jig is up."  
  
He wasn't absolutely certain, but he was fairly certain her lips were twitching. Other than that she said nothing.  
  
"Do you find my exercises to be undemanding?"  
  
That warranted an indifferent shrug. He pushed her feather at her.  
  
"Alright, show me what you can do."  
  
For the next few minutes Tofty leaned against a nearby desk watching the girl charm the feather in a seemingly infinite number of ways. First she banished it away from her, then with an 'Accio!' she had it back. She gave it an 'Engorgio!' before casting a 'Reducio!' to return it to normal size. A 'Diffindo!' tore the feather, but a 'Reparo!' immediately brought it back to ship shape. She disillusioned it and vanished it, before making it reappear with a 'Finite Incantatem!' She even managed to give it a horn for its tongue with the 'Horn Tongue' enchantment, despite the feather's lack of tongue. Though the amplification and silencing effects of the 'Sonorus!' 'Quietus!' and 'Silencio!' had no effect on the feather, she did have the words and form correct.  
  
As she went through every spell he could think to suggest, regardless of the level of difficulty, the only one she couldn't get right was 'Expecto Patronum!' Her words and form were flawless, but nothing came out of her wand. Not at all surprising since a person's Patronus was tied to their soul and it was a well known fact that Themis children were born without souls. Still, for a soulless child Tofty thought she was quite pleasant, if a bit mischievous and willful.  
  
It was only after his own error of asking her to cast a fire setting spell, 'Incendio,' a few minutes after having already suggested using a water repellent spell, 'Impervius' that their session came to an end. The incantation that made wine come out of her wand did not help matters. His own attempts at 'Finite Incantatem!' were ineffective against her overly powerful castings.  
  
"Dearie, you try 'Finite Incantatem!'"  
  
The alcohol acted as an accelerant, enabling the fire to quickly engulf the whole desk.  
  
"I already showed you that spell."  
  
It began to spread to the next desk as Tofty backed away, tugging the girl with him by her sleeve. Tofty replied, keeping his voice as even and kindly as he could under the circumstance.  
  
"Yes, you certainly did, but I'd like to see it just once more."  
  
After a few more entreaties, he finally convinced her to repeat the incantation she had already showed him. Opening the door, he eagerly released her to the waiting Mr. Riddle. While attempting to minimize the appearance of damage to his classroom, he considered the matter. Given the circumstances of the Headmaster's acquaintance with the girl's grandmother, Professor Tofty decided it might be best not to mention this incident.  
  
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Armando Dippet had long since given up on attempting to personally hand write a response to each angry letter. Instead he charmed a score of quills to all write out on a separate parchment as he dictated.  
  
"I assure you there is no cause for alarm. The report printed in this month's edition of the Quibbler was almost entirely devoid of fact -"  
  
As the Minister of Magic entered his office with an abbreviated entourage Dippet sighed. Ignoring the Minister's boldly stated opinions about the competency of Dippet and his staff, he shuffled through the tattered remains of Howlers lying on his desk. Eventually, he managed to locate the scroll he had put aside for the Minister's arrival.  
  
In retrospect, Dippet realized perhaps if he had taken a different approach, if he had been a little less overly confidant, a little less arrogant, then perhaps things would have turned out differently. Perhaps the Minister would not have later worked so tirelessly against him. But as it was, he had just spent the past few hours failing to manage to open Howlers at a rate rapid enough to prevent the majority of them from exploding on his desk. Nearly a quarter of the school's students had departed this morning and the letters he had been receiving indicated a portion almost equal to that could be expected to leave by this afternoon. Despite his best efforts to sway him against it, Dumbledore was still insistent upon attempting to embark on a friendship with the girl now. Dippet could already Foresee that harmless childhood friendship and Dumbledore's sense of propriety playing havoc with the possibility of future romantic entanglements with the girl when she became an adult. And to top it all off, during the time of Pomfrey's absence, Dippet's supply of dreamless sleep potion had dwindled to a single, solitary vial. It was Friday and he had just learned that Pomfrey was not expected to be released from St. Mungo's until Monday at the earliest. How he could possibly manage to make it till then was unimaginable.  
  
The one thing he was confident about was that the short scroll he was handing the Minister would decisively resolve at least one problem. Without even unrolling the scroll to attempt to read it, the Minister began to question him.  
  
"What's this?"  
  
"That, Minister Augustus, is a formal petition for custody of the girl. Or rather, it is a copy of a formal petition for custody of the girl. The original was owled off to the proper Ministry department earlier this morning."  
  
The Minister was more than a bit irate in his response.  
  
"Dippet, surely you don't think I plan to leave her here now?"  
  
Dippet stole a quick glance to the men standing behind the Minister. Amongst them he easily recognized Mr. Moody. Mr. Moody looked away, still too ashamed of his behavior of the last evening to meet Dippet's gaze. Dippet was slightly insecure knowing the auror was there and could possibly attempt to refute him, but he gained confidence from the auror's inability to look him in the eye and spoke.  
  
"Be serious, Minister. The child hasn't done anything wrong. There isn't a hint of misconduct on her part. Lacking evidence, without even a credible accusation against her, you cannot send her to Azkaban. You had your chance under the guise of investigating her when her existence was first discovered, but you failed to seize it."  
  
The Minister looked quite incensed. Clearly, he had not forgotten that the only reason he had not exercised that option was Dippet's own doing.  
  
"Even if I can't send her straight to Azkaban, what makes you think I will let you get away with this? I will not be letting you keep her."  
  
Dippet knew his next words were crude and unkind, but they were indisputable. He did after all have experience in this matter from when the girl's mother was a child. Wizarding children were rare and precious. They were seldom put up for adoption and the few that were, were heavily sought after. That had been one of the things that was most upsetting about the discovery of eleven year old Mr. Riddle living in a muggle orphanage. Most unfortunate that his Witch mother had not notified anyone of the Wizarding variety before dying in childbirth at a muggle hospital. Even the inordinately large number of orphan children provided by Grindelwald's reign of terror had quickly been absorbed by the Wizarding community.  
  
Of course everything had an exception and in this case it was the Themis. People could hardly be expected to willingly open their homes to cursed little children. And certainly in this girl's case the identity of her father would not at all serve to facilitate the problem.  
  
"Minister, you have no basis to decline my petition and it's hardly as if anyone else is going to want her."  
  
The Minister could think of nothing to counter the validity of Dippet's words and soon departed.  
  
####################################  
  
After stepping to the side of the stone gargoyles, Alastor Moody stood rigid as the incensed Minister of Magic addressed him personally.  
  
"Moody, I don't care if you have to invent it, I want you to find a reason to get that - that - thing to Azkaban."  
  
Moody realized that he could mention last night's incident. While he was sure it was not what had happened, he knew the Minister could try to make the argument that the girl had choked the boy. Not by wandlessly strangling him as Moody had first supposed, but by having placed the chicken bone in the boy's throat to choke him.  
  
He could have mentioned it, but instead, Moody kept his mouth closed and just nodded his head in response.  
  
  
  
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A/N Thanks for reviewing Jessica Lewis, Stacey, Mavidian, Morpheus, Kate, Punurple, Elayne Sedai, Mara MG, Venusdemilo, hmt, and Laura Kay x4!  
  
The chapter is written but I still need to send it off to be betaed. Maria is terrific about getting things back quickly though, so the wait for it to be posted shouldn't be too long. Meanwhile please take a moment and review this one. Thanks. 


	38. Chapter 38

A/N Thanks once again to Maria for taking the time to beta this.  
  
Just a little reminder   
  
*** denotes a time shift  
  
### denotes a change of narrator  
  
I've tried to make narrators identities as easy to figure out as possible. It is almost always the first person whose full name is given. If it is a scene between just Tom & Minerva it will never be either of them so look around and you can usually figure out who is narrating pretty easily. If the scene takes place in Tom's bedroom, nine times out of ten expect the narrator to be the portrait in the room. In the Charms classroom, the narrator was Professor Tofty. No first name was ever given for him in the books and I haven't found it necessary to give him one.  
  
As something of a little treat for the AD/MM fans reading this who are waiting for the AD/MM part to begin, I have excerpted a little piece from later in the story. It's called Dumbledore's Beard. It is just fluff, but reading it, you can definitely see what the Sorting Hat meant when it sorted young Minerva into Slytherin. It is archived on this site, but if you want to copy and paste, the link is  
  
http://64.4.8.250/cgi-bin/linkrd?_lang=EN&lah=b74e20e203b9622c709aad0c6072b312&lat=1073891525&hm___action=http%3a%2f%2fwww%2efanfiction%2enet%2fread%2ephp%3fstoryid%3d1683469  
  
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Standing in the Potions classroom after lunch, Albus Dumbledore had to admit he was astounded that his plan had made it this far. He had been more than convinced that Dippet would find out about his plan and intercede.  
  
When the bell rang and the seats of Tom Riddle and Minerva Grindelwald remained empty Dumbledore was disappointed, but not at all surprised. He simply assumed that Dippet was allowing the other students the benefits of his knowledge while instructing that pair not to attend.  
  
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"I do _not_ want to go in that one! Take me to another one!"  
  
Riddle looked quite exasperated. "Kitten, there is nothing wrong with this bathroom. Hurry or we will be late for Potions!"  
  
Miss McGon - no that wasn't it - Miss Grindelwald replied in a tone that offered no room for bargaining. "I am _not_ going in there!"  
  
Robert Binns had always been fond of eavesdropping on other people's conversations and today was no exception. While certainly he could intervene and try to help Mr. Riddle, he found it much more enjoyable to watch the young man struggle. So long as it wasn't directed at him, Binns found the girl's insolence most charming.  
  
"Kitten, this is a girl's bathroom. Just go. We can't be late. It's Pomfrey's first day back and he'll be looking for any excuse to pass out detentions."  
  
Clearly Mr. Riddle had not yet realized the futileness of arguing against that demanding tone. Again, so long as it was not directed against him, Binns admired the girl's adamant refusal to reconsider her position.  
  
"I will _not_ use that one!"  
  
Riddle gave the girl a perplexed look. "What's wrong with that one?"  
  
Miss Grindelwald didn't look quite so confident now. "I do _not_ like the girl who lives in there."  
  
'Lives' wasn't quite the word Binns would have used, but to each their own.  
  
A change seemed to come over Mr. Riddle. He seemed less annoyed and more…more, well Binns wasn't sure more of what, but definitely more of something.  
  
"That's right, I had forgotten. Myrtle has been sent back to stay here."  
  
Riddle had an almost dreamy expression for a moment. He gave the girl a slightly appraising look as he quietly questioned her. "You aren't…you aren't afraid of Myrtle, are you?"  
  
The girl hesitated only a moment before becoming indignant. Looking Riddle directly in the eye, she lied. "No! Of course _not!_ I am not afraid of anything!"  
  
Less emphatically and not looking directly at him, she continued answering. "I just can _ not_ go with someone watching me."  
  
Riddle stood there a moment, still watching the girl with that slightly appraising look. In the end, he was the one to capitulate. "Alright, we'll stop by your rooms, but quickly."  
  
Binns couldn't blame the girl for not wanting to use that bathroom. He wouldn't want to use it either. Dead people gave him the heebie-jeebies. As far as he was concerned, they had no business loitering, making a nuisance of themselves. The castle ghosts were a bunch of no good layabouts.  
  
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******************************************  
  
Albus Dumbledore looked over to the door as it opened.  
  
"Sorry we're late, Professor Pomfrey. It won't - " Riddle broke off as he realized it was not Pomfrey teaching the class. "What are you doing here? Where is Pomfrey?"  
  
Ignoring the accusing tone, Dumbledore responded. "_Professor_ Pomfrey will not be returning until next week. Until then, you will have to make due with me. As for the tardiness, not to worry, Tom, I'm just glad to see you are joining us."  
  
Tom shook his head and gathered the girl back up into his arms.  
  
"Take a seat, Mr. Riddle." After a pause with no response, he repeated himself. "I said, take a seat, Tom."  
  
Tom ignored his request and exited the dungeon classroom. Dumbledore paused only a moment before forsaking his class to follow after.  
  
"Tom, return to the classroom at once!"  
  
Dumbledore frowned as the boy ignored him and continued up the staircase.  
  
"Five points from Slytherin for every step you climb, Mr. Riddle!"  
  
The boy positively sneered as he turned around. "We'll just see what Dippet has to say about that."  
  
"If you wish to go speak to the Headmaster, by all means go, however Miss Grindelwald will be returning to her Potions lesson with me."  
  
Tom was unquestionably smug as he answered back. "Dippet said you aren't to be anywhere near Kitten!"  
  
Dumbledore frowned and took issue with the only part of Tom's outburst that he legitimately could. "Her name is Minerva."  
  
"No, it really isn't."  
  
Weighed down by the girl, Riddle was not at all difficult to catch up to. Still, the way he clutched the girl, barring physically tearing her from Riddle's arms, there was no way to separate them. Unwilling to traumatize the child any further, a fuming Dumbledore made the trip to the Headmaster's office along with the pair. On the way, Dumbledore tried to calm himself with the knowledge that in just a few short weeks Tom would no longer be an influence on the child. Tom would be graduating, leaving Hogwarts and the girl behind.  
  
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A/N Sorry I didn't get this posted up sooner, but Fanfiction.net cut off my access for a while because I violated one of their terms of service by having a chapter that contained only author's notes. Besides suspending my uploading privileges they ever so kindly removed the chapter in question. To get my chapter numbers somewhat back in order I am cutting this chapter in half and posting it in two parts but at the same time.  
  
Thanks for reviewing Jessica, LinZE, Margo, Morpheus, Minerva Gwendolyn McGonagall, Punurple, Mara MG, CEA, Kbmaillist, HMT, and Cluttered.  
  
Cluttered, Laura Kay and anyone else wanting to make a guess on the meanings of the predictions made by Artemisia - I won't respond here because I don't want to 'spoil' anything for other people, but if you want to send your predictions in an email, I will tell you if you are on the right track. So far no one has been entirely correct. If you just want to post them in your review so later once all is revealed you can revel if you get it right then by all means I fully support that idea. I am getting a lot of enjoyment out of people trying to work everything out.  
  
MGM Give it a few more chapters and …  
  
Margo I was trying to subtly imply with the reactions to the newspaper that Dumbledore received quite a bit of attention from his part in the defeat of Grindelwald. Just a little reminder in case anyone had forgotten Dumbledore's role in the matter. If that didn't come across, not to worry, it will be mentioned a few more times.   
  
I'll address your feedback for my other story here since I know you read this too. At the moment When Kneazles Attack is being guarded by a sphinx who will not allow the story to continue until someone correctly answers the question posed at the end of the last chapter. Seriously, it was meant to be a short sweet little twenty or so chapter story that was easily followed. Something of the opposite of this epic length piece. I'm not quite sure what happened though, somewhere along the way I seemed to have lost everyone. The answer to the question 'What else is supposed to happen the day the students go home' was supposed to be an obvious one but no one figured it out. One reviewer came almost close, but then took it in the wrong direction. I had the second and third chapters half written before I posted the first one, but decided to concentrate more on this story instead when no one was able to figure it out. I might revisit the story later but probably not until someone figures it out. Even then, I am a little hesitant because when I gave up on Kneazles I absorbed a small plot point of that story into this one. So I guess if a reviewer can get past the sphinx, I could continue that story so long as everyone promises not to flame me for plagiarizing myself. 


	39. Chapter 39

A/N Thanks as always to Maria for taking the time to beta this.  
  
Make sure you to read Chapter 38 before starting this one. An earlier chapter was removed bumping all the chapter numbers back one.  
  
And please remember to review!  
  
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After clearing through all of the howlers and other owl messages, Armando Dippet sat at his desk contemplating the vial before him.  
  
The logical suggestion would be to ration the potion, to split it into three parts and imbibe one part each night. That, however, would simply not do. He had long since learned that lessening the dosage of the potion would render it useless.  
  
He could consume his last remaining vial of dreamless sleep potion tonight and hope for some other solution to present itself for the other two nights. Or he could attempt to spread out the unpleasantness. He could attempt to make it through tonight without the potion, take the potion tomorrow night, leaving the third night to be endured potions less, but with the expectation that Pomfrey would be returning the following day and be able to supply him with a new store of dreamless sleep potion.  
  
The very real possibility that Pomfrey might not be returning on Monday was not something he was willing to even begin to consider.  
  
A knock at the door surprised Dippet. It must be a student, no one else ever bothered to knock. With the utmost care, he returned the vial to its earlier position next to the other 'sleep' potion in the drawer.  
  
"Enter."  
  
Dippet frowned as he took note of who was entering his office. Yes, Dumbledore was the only one on staff who had the civility to knock. As Mr. Riddle and the girl entered with the Transfiguration Master, Dippet noted with some relief that no one appeared wounded or malformed in any way.  
  
With more than a bit of unease, Dippet spoke. "To what do I owe this great privilege?"  
  
Mr. Riddle was the one to speak first. "Sir, Kitten and I would like to be excused from Potions lessons until Professor Pomfrey returns."  
  
Dippet turned his frown onto Master Dumbledore. "_I_ was not aware we were still having Potions lessons what with Professor Pomfrey being indisposed."  
  
Dippet deepened his frown as Dumbledore ignored the warning tone of his voice and attempted to further an agenda of his own. "I made the offer this morning to Professor Shackleton to help try to keep the higher level Potions classes from falling too far behind during Pomfrey's absence."  
  
Rather than attempt to argue with the young master debater, Dippet acquiesced derisively. "How very _decent_ of you, Master Dumbledore. A most _generous_ offer that I will readily take you up on."  
  
Before continuing to speak, Dippet noted the appalled expression on Mr. Riddle's face and the wary look of suspicion on Master Dumbledore's. Improbably as it might seem, Miss Grindelwald appeared to be keeping herself entertained and out of trouble for the moment. "However, since Miss Grindelwald is not expected to be studying higher level Potions, but rather, first year Potions, she will of course be excused. Now, is there anything else?"  
  
Dippet sighed as Dumbledore refused to give in so easily. "Headmaster, there is no reason for the two not to continue in my Transfigurations class. If Tom sincerely wishes to drop the class then that is his decision. However, that does not factor into whether or not Miss Grindelwald should continue. After all, Mr. Riddle will be graduating in a few weeks, while you plan for Miss Grindelwald to remain here for-"  
  
Master Dumbledore stopped abruptly, stunned into silence by the words with which Mr. Riddle interrupted him. Dippet had to admit, Mr. Riddle's words were more than a bit inaccurate. "Kitten belongs to me. She will be coming with me when I leave."  
  
Dippet cleared his throat before attempting a rebuttal to Mr. Riddle's words. "Mr. Riddle, that is not going to happen. It would not be at all appropriate-"  
  
Dippet sighed as the boy now interrupted him. What was wrong with the youth of today? They were entirely too ill-mannered and excitable.  
  
"Kitten belongs to me! You said I could keep her!"  
  
Now Master Dumbledore was the one piercing him with a disapproving look. "Dippet, surely you didn't tell him that?!"  
  
Dippet shook his head. "Certainly not! Mr. Riddle, what I said, or at least what I had meant to say…what it was that I meant when I said that, Mr. Riddle, was that-"  
  
"-You told me-"  
  
"-Armando, what in the world were you think-"  
  
This was really getting to be too much. Thankfully the girl had not yet decided to add her own voice to the cacophony. Remarkable, how well she was behaving. She was just unhurriedly drifting about the perimeter of his office. Granted, she was trailing her hands along all the shelves and cabinets, leaving fingerprint smudges all over the glass, but that could be easily remedied by one of the elves.  
  
Dippet raised his volume in an attempt to be heard over the other voices. He already had a solution to everything, if only they would listen. "The girl will not be leaving. She will remain here at Hogwarts under my guardianship. Mr. Riddle will also be remaining. Arrangements will be made for him to apprentice as a Master next year, continuing until such time as…well…just continuing."  
  
Mr. Riddle wore quite the appalled expression. "Study to be a _professor_?"  
  
Dumbledore looked no more satisfied with the idea. "An apprentice? Headmaster, apprenticing hasn't been a practice since even before I was a student."  
  
Choosing to ignore Master Dumbledore's very accurate comment, Dippet focused on the far more easily dismissed objections of Mr. Riddle. "Mr. Riddle, it would be extremely unseemly to allow you to leave with the child. She is after all a girl and you are not. Even beyond that, how would you suppose to support her? You are without a vocation. You have no family, no support system. Were you to find employment, what of the girl then? She requires nearly constant supervision."  
  
Mr. Riddle began reddening furiously at his words of reality. "Sir, I would easily be able to take care of her as a cat. It is what she wants. It would not be at all improper for me to keep a female cat and it would be barely more expensive than taking care of myself."  
  
Dippet could see Dumbledore's horrified expression at the idea of allowing the girl to live out the rest of her life as a cat. Despite Dumbledore's reaction, in actuality there was no denying that it was indeed what the girl wanted. Allowing her to do so had been the inclination of the girl's father and when first told, Dippet had not in any way opposed the idea. At the time, it had seemed like the perfect solution. However, that proposal's time had long since come and gone.  
  
He tried to be more reassuring. "It is not in any way my desire to separate you two, Mr. Riddle. Quite the contrary, but there are, even for me, certain necessary limits. If you do not wish to remain, that is of course your right, but I cannot allow the child to leave with you. Once she is of age, if that is her wish-"  
  
Dippet sighed as Dumbledore again took it upon himself to interrupt. Though Mr. Riddle was skilled in transfiguration, clearly apprenticing under Master Dumbledore would not be an appropriate choice. Potions too seemed unlikely; perhaps Charms?  
  
"Armando, are you even listening to yourself? You cannot be serious."  
  
When he again failed to respond to Master Dumbledore's remarks, rather than give up entirely, Dumbledore returned to the issue that had first brought him to the Headmaster's office.  
  
"That still is no reason for them to stop taking my Transfigurations class."  
  
Before Dippet could dismiss Master Dumbledore, Mr. Riddle took it upon himself to respond. His attitude was most…unabashed. "What more could I possibly learn from you? I can already do things that took you fifty years to do!"  
  
Dippet's breath caught at the startled look Dumbledore gave the boy. From over the rims of his half-moon spectacles, Dumbledore's blue eyes held no sparkle as they looked into the boy's similarly tinted eyes. It was clear from the slight hesitancy to Dumbledore's response that the man was having doubts at his own words. "Tom, that wasn't you. It was the child."  
  
Mr. Riddle was quick to respond, but not at all quick to think through what he was doing. "No, it wasn't. I did it. I can prove it." The boy conjured a set of teacups in an attempt to do just that.  
  
What a foolish, unthinking boy! Dippet had no doubt that the boy's abilities had flourished. And while the change was caused by the girl, they were now his own. Unlike the temporary concentration or refinement of abilities that could be caused by her mere touch, the embedment of magical abilities caused by bites or scratches from a foci were, like the effects of the same actions by a werewolf, indelible. Though they did not always show up immediately, they could be passed on for generations. Dippet wondered just how routinely the girl had bitten or scratched Mr. Riddle as a cat to have had such a dramatic effect. Of course, Dippet had no doubt that Mr. Riddle had been the one to do the spell, but to flaunt it in Dumbledore's face after all of Dippet's work to conceal what was truly going on!   
  
Master Dumbledore was not lacking in intelligence, but like so many of the younger generations, he was ignorant of much of the finer details involved in purebloods. Dumbledore might not know now about foci and their abilities, but with Riddle flaunting his newly burgeoning abilities, the man would begin to wonder and investigate. How very little time it would take Albus Dumbledore to research into the matter and discover the truth. Were Dumbledore to be as imprudent with that information as he had been with his discovery of the girl's presence at the school, there existed certain unscrupulous people who would find the girl's ability most valuable. Dippet had no desire to speculate on what would become of the girl in such an event.  
  
Which reminded him; what exactly was the girl doing now? It was not usually her custom to be so quiet and well behaved. Dippet turned, seeking to find what the girl was up to.   
  
"No! No! No! You leave Mr. Keys alone!"   
  
No, 'quiet' and 'well behaved' were not at all the girl's usual behavior. Gradually skulking up upon poor unsuspecting Mr. Keys while everyone else was distracted was much more her routine. The girl gave a small hiss in his direction before flopping, rather ungracefully, into her usual afternoon chair.  
  
Mr. Riddle had his wand aloft, ready to speak the incantation, but he had paused with a bewildered expression at Dippet's outburst. Seeking to intercede to avert calamity, Dippet again spoke. "That's enough!" He gave Tom a very long warning glare before again speaking. "Mr. Riddle is in the NEWT level class. Until Master Pomfrey returns, I am confidant that he can adequately tutor the girl in first year Potions. As for Transfigurations, my earlier decision still stands. Master Dumbledore, you are dismissed."  
  
####################################  
  
Leaving Dippet's office, Dumbledore was confused. Something wasn't right. As the stone staircase turned downwards, he realized what it was. Tom had to have been the one to do the spell. Animagi cannot cast while in their animagus form. But that couldn't be right. Tom was powerful, but he simply was not _that_ powerful. Had the girl somehow managed to cast despite her animagus form? It was obvious from the way Dippet had reacted that the Headmaster was concealing something. Was that it? Dumbledore shook his head. Things were simply not adding up to what they should be.  
  
########################################  
  
Finally rid of Master Dumbledore, Armando Dippet gave a small sigh of relief.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, the Potions hour is nearly finished. It is a bit earlier than usual, but you may leave the girl here and move along to your Divination class. You may return for her afterwards and take her with you to Defense Against the Dark Arts."  
  
Once alone with the girl, Dippet stared at her, returning her disinterested gaze for several minutes. Even before he spoke he knew it was a mistake, but really, he hadn't any other ideas.  
  
"Would you like to play a game of checkers?"  
  
Her response was ever constant. "I can play chess."  
  
It took a moment before Dippet realized he was clenching the quill in his hand, mussing all the lines of the feather. Despite his earlier defense of the girl Dippet began to wonder, and not the first time, if Artemisia might have prearranged all this. Had she deliberately designed for the girl to be left with him in the hopes she would impel him to despair or lunacy?  
  
When an owl entered the open window, he eagerly accepted its freight. While confirming the order of the following year's course books was usually a task he delegated to his Deputy, and Flourish and Blotts was not actually expecting to receive a reply for several weeks, Dippet could not at the moment think of any earthly reason not to handle the matter himself. Immediately.  
  
Unfortunately, as he unrolled the second parchment, the girl had other ideas.  
  
"Where is the tea?"  
  
Dippet looked up. The girl had her head tilted, staring at him curiously.   
  
He shook his head. "What do you care? You don't drink it anyways."  
  
Again she inquired of him. "Yes, but this is teatime. How can it be teatime with no tea?"  
  
Dippet frowned. Still the girl did have a point. And a cup of tea would be nice after the day's unpleasantness. Taking out his wand, he conjured the usual tea service. After pouring out two cups he frowned realizing she had again taken off with the sugar dish.  
  
"Bring that back. I need sugar for my tea."  
  
The girl's response was to shrug and put a cube in her mouth. Growing incensed, he repeated himself. "Bring the sugar back here. The sugar is for everyone's use, not just yours."  
  
"That is _not_ what Professor Viinder told me. He said I could have _all_ the sugar."  
  
Dippet rubbed his temples where he could feel another headache beginning. He actually did remember the young Divination Master saying something to that effect. "Yes, but he was only refering to the sugar in the dish that day."  
  
The girl again shrugged. "He said I could have _all_ the sugar."  
  
Again he tried to reason with the girl. "Yes, but he didn't mean all sugar ever. Just what was there that day."  
  
"It _is_ what he said." The girl took another cube into her mouth.  
  
Dippet could feel himself becoming increasingly flustered. "Yes, well, he may have said it, but Master Viinder does not have that authority."  
  
When the girl settled back into her chair with another shrug, Dippet gave up. He would rather make due without the sugar than get into a debate with the girl. Taking a sip of the unsweetened tea he returned his attention to the parchment before him.  
  
########################################  
  
Rubeus Hagrid went to the Headmaster's office to pick up Mr. Keys for his afternoon walk, but he couldn't help but notice Kitten. She was sitting sideways on one of the chairs. The poor girl looked so bored. While Headmaster Dippet was busy at his desk with some no doubt very important papers, Kitten had nothing to keep herself busy.  
  
Hagrid only had a moment. He had work to get back to, but he wanted to get a smile out of her first. He walked right up to her and tweaked her nose. Not wanting to disturb the Headmaster, he whispered.  
  
"Got yer conk!"  
  
He stuck his thumb between two fingers and proudly displayed it to the girl. She gave a gasp and her eyes widened. She didn't look at all bored anymore.  
  
Hagrid tweaked her nose again.  
  
"There, yeh can have it back."  
  
Hagrid smiled watching Kitten gingerly touch her nose, checking its placement. When he gave her a wink she smiled back at him.  
  
Very pleased with himself, Hagrid made his way down the staircase with Mr. Keys.  
  
##########################################  
  
********************************************  
  
Armando Dippet stood off to the side in the school infirmary. As Madame Griselda comforted and attempted to set right young Miss Simon, he made his Deputy again explain what happened.  
  
"Armando, I'm telling you there was no reason! Miss Simon was just sitting at her own desk, minding her own business! She wasn't teasing or taunting the girl, she wasn't talking about her, she wasn't even looking at her! There was absolutely no cause! None at all! The girl just walked by and pulled it right off Miss Simon's face. She said 'Got your conk' and dropped it in Miss Simon's hand. It was entirely unprovoked!"  
  
Beyond disappointed, Dippet shook his head. There had to be a 'why.' He needed there to be a 'why.' If only he could figure it out…but more and more it seemed like there was not one to be had. The child was just evil.  
  
########################################  
  
******************************************  
  
  
  
The young man's frustration was evident as the potion again turned a color other than the intended one. Ever since their return from dinner, the pair had been attempting the same potion. With a flick of his wand the young man emptied the cauldron again for the girl.  
  
"Evanesco! Try it again."  
  
As the girl again mixed together the ingredients, a third figure entered the open door.  
  
"Tom, you're not ready? We are all waiting for you."  
  
The young man refused to take his attention away from the girl.  
  
"I'm busy, Avery."  
  
The new arrival seemed shocked. "But Tom, it's Friday. We always sneak into Hogs-"  
  
As the potion again went wrong the young man lost his temper.  
  
"How can you wreck a potion that only has four ingredients? I even chopped and measured them out for you!"  
  
The young man grew more frustrated when the girl reverted to an old comforting habit in response. He didn't seem to yet realize it was his berating that was causing it.  
  
"Kitten, stop licking your hand!"  
  
The Avery boy wore a rather leering smile as he stared at the girl and offered an alternative suggestion. "Calm down, Tom. If she likes licking things, I have something she can lick."  
  
The girl did not understand the meaning behind the boy's words. She merely stared back at him, tilting her head curiously.   
  
From up over the fireplace, there was no doubt that the young man understood. The Avery boy's eyes were still on the girl so he didn't notice the change that came over the young man. The young man's face was convoluted with a look beyond fury, but his voice in speaking to the girl was quite calm.  
  
"Kitten, please go into the other room and wash your hands. Take your time and wash them thoroughly. Maybe there is some of that sugar Dippet keeps giving you leftover on them and it is reacting with the potion ingredients."  
  
For once the girl did as she was told the first time. The young man used his wand to close the door. As soon as the water could be heard running, he turned with his wand still out.  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
When the young man finally lifted the spell, the boy on the floor had long since stopped trying to cry out. Before allowing him to leave, the young man gave him a harsh warning.  
  
"Watch your mouth! Keep your filthy hands and your nasty everything else to yourself around her! I won't have you or anyone else ruining her!"  
  
The young man's rage seemed to have departed with the boy. When the girl returned to show off her freshly scrubbed hands, he gently kissed them.  
  
A few minutes later when yet another potion attempt went wrong, from his position over the fireplace, the room's unobserved observer feared that rage would be returning. The young girl seemed to be bracing for it as well. Before the young man could even begin to scold her, she began licking her hand.  
  
The young man frowned, but rather than rage, he cleared away all the potion supplies with his wand. He sat next to the girl and stroked her hair as had been his custom when she was a cat.  
  
"No more potions for tonight. Would you like to play a game instead?"  
  
The girl tilted her head and gave an inquiring look. "Where is my mouse?"  
  
The young man shook his head. "I _already_ told you, you can't have it anymore. Little girls _don't_ play with mice."  
  
The girl rested her head on her folded hands, disappointed, but the young man soon made a different suggestion. "There are other games we can play."  
  
The girl picked her head up slightly. "I can play chess."  
  
The young man frowned. The pair had already tried that game once. The young man had always been fiercely competitive and had not appreciated the end result of their match. Instead, he offered an alternative suggestion. "We can play 'hide and seek'."  
  
The girl seemed indifferent at first. The young man tried to entice her. "You can go first."  
  
When the girl still remained in the same position with her head resting upon her folded arms the young man gave her an odd look. "You do know how to play 'hide and seek,' don't you?"  
  
That got the girl's attention. She raised her head to regard him indignantly. "_Of course,_ I know!"  
  
The young man did not look convinced. Still, he put his hands over his face and began to count. The girl watched him guardedly for a moment before mimicking his actions. The young man seemed both amused and taken aback as he uncovered his eyes. It took him only a moment to explain to her how it was played. She became interested as soon as she knew what was involved.  
  
"I get to hide! You have to come find me!"  
  
The young man agreed once he had assurances from her of only finding a hiding spot inside the room. Though hiding in the room gave limited options - behind the curtains or the open door, under the bed, in the wardrobe or the trunk - the young man still seemed to find it necessary to steal a look through his fingers as he counted. The girl looked torn between choosing to hide under the bed or inside the wardrobe.  
  
With a last glance to the young man, she finally decided. She put great effort into not making a sound as she opened the wardrobe, entered, and then closed the doors behind her. Still, it was the first place the young man went to when he finished counting. He threw open the doors with a great flourish.  
  
"I found y-"  
  
The young man began ruffling through the items in the wardrobe.  
  
"Kitten?"  
  
He called out a second time, louder and more alarmed.  
  
"Kitten?!"  
  
The young man whirled around as he again called out, nearly shouting this time.  
  
"Kitten? Come out now! This isn't funny! Where are you?"  
  
In a panic, the next time he called out, it was definitely a shout.  
  
'Kitten?!" 


	40. Chapter 40

_Chapter 40_

A/N Thank you Maria for taking the time to beta this. As always, I make numerous changes after I send the supposedly final copy to Maria so any errors remaining are entirely my fault.

I really can't stress enough how important it is to go back and make sure you read Chapters 38 and 39 in their entirety. made some changes to the chapter numbering and I had some issues with uploading the first three times I tried to load the new chapters. They are different chapters than they once were.

Albus Dumbledore had no reason to be in the dungeons - or so Headmaster Dippet had informed him. Dumbledore held Dippet in great regard, but in this one instance, he could not, would not respect his wishes. It was only his intention to speak to Binns, to again attempt to press upon him the importance of monitoring Riddle. It was not his intention to involve himself, but when he was passing by he overheard Riddle's panicked shouts.

Dumbledore made his way right to the Head Boy's room. Tom was standing before the open wardrobe. Clothes and other various sundries littered the floor.

"Tom, what's going on?"

Frantic was not a look Tom Riddle wore well. "Kitten and I were playing hide and seek, but now I can't find her."

Even for a child as young as Minerva the room had few adequate hiding spots. Dumbledore looked in the bathroom and then crossed the room to look behind the curtains.

"No, you don't understand! I watched her go into the wardrobe! She never came out!"

Dumbledore gave Tom a startled look. He was about to head over to the wardrobe to check himself, when he glimpsed a small hand poking out slightly from under the bed.

The hand was bruised and slick with red blood.

Dumbledore's first thought was that Tom had lost his temper and taken it out on the girl. Kneeling down, his breath caught as in the scant light reaching under the bed, he saw that the bruising and hemorrhaging extended much further than just her hand. He didn't want to recognize the symptoms.

Dumbledore's voice quavered as he questioned Tom. "You were watching? You are sure she couldn't have slipped out?"

"No, she couldn't have. I was watching her the whole time."

Tom's words confirmed what the dull, lifeless look in the girl's still open eyes was telling him. She had tried to apparate from within the school grounds. It would seem no one had ever realized it was necessary to tell her that there existed wards around the school to prevent people from successfully apparating in or disapparating out.

While an individual could attempt to apparate within the anti-apparition field, as they tried to move through it they would experience a resisting force, pushing them back. It started off as a slightly painful pressure, designed to work as a warning. If however a person persisted, the pressure exerted would increase as if in proportion to the effort, seeking to impel the person back. While theoretically, given enough power, it might be possible to overcome the wards, the protective enchantments ensured that any individual attempting to do so would experience such an overwhelming force that just the circulation of blood caused by the heart beating would be enough stress to rupture all the vessels the blood traveled through.

Such an unspeakably painful way to die. The child had exsanguinated with the blood coming out of almost every pore. In the few areas where the red stain of blood did not hide her now nearly translucent skin, the rupture of her blood vessels was visible. A torrent of blood had marked a passage from her nose across her cheek and down to the stone beneath where it pooled. 'Had' being the significant word. No longer did even the slightest trickle of blood emerge from her.

No, an individual could try to apparate, but he would hardly call this a success.

In answering the question Tom had turned and noticed him kneeling on the other side of the bed. As Tom started to approach, Dumbledore gently warned him away. "Tom, don't. You don't need to see this."

When Tom ignored his words and approached anyway, Dumbledore pulled the top most blanket from the bed. "I'm sorry, Tom. She apparated...the wards around the school…she's gone." As he began to cover the girl, seeking to shield Tom from seeing that ghastly sight, Dumbledore could hear a sound, something like a whimper.

It hadn't come from Tom.

The girl wasn't dead…yet.

It was pointless really, more for show than anything else. He did it for the boy's benefit, not out of any hope for the girl. Though Dumbledore hadn't wanted Riddle near the girl, hadn't trusted him, he would even reluctantly go so far as to say he didn't like the boy, he wouldn't have wished this on his worst enemy. As for the girl, it was cruel more than anything else, an attempt to prolong her suffering with no real chance of survival. Still, he did it. He covered her completely with the blanket, bundling it as tightly as possible to stem the loss of what little blood she might have left. With the bundle in his arms and Tom at his heels, he sprinted all the way to the school infirmary.

He ran, but there was no sense of real urgency. Just the certainty of the futility of it all. Madame Griselda was quite apt, but even a roomful of St. Mungo's most skilled could have offered the girl no hope. It was remarkable as he ran, how clear his mind was. How unclouded with panic it was. So many thoughts passed through his mind as he made the journey. He thought about how he would have liked to have gotten to know this incredibly remarkable child and how none of Artemisia's foolish predictions had had time to come true. He thought about the pointlessness of Dippet's warnings and how Moody needn't worry anymore either. He realized if Tom knew with certainty where the girl was hiding the boy must have been cheating.

Setting the girl down on an exam table before the startled Madame Griselda, he explained the situation to her in two words. "She apparated."

As Madame Griselda with shaking hands began unwrapping that very precious bundle, not wanting to have Tom see or to himself again see that horrid sight, Dumbledore pulled Tom back. Pushing away his speculations about exactly what kind of person feels the need to cheat in a game against an eight year old, he tried to offer some comfort to the boy. Despite anything else he might have thought or felt about Tom Riddle, it was clear he had very much loved the girl. "I am sorry, Tom."

The boy shook his head and shrugged off the comforting arm Dumbledore had placed on his shoulder. "Stop saying that! She isn't dead! She can't be dead!" The boy's face was pain masked with anger. Knowing the boy needed something or someone to be angry at, Dumbledore allowed the boy to rail against him.

Madame Griselda lifted up part of the blanket to look at the girl, but with a gasp let it slip out of her hand and cover the girl again. As she spoke and made the sign of the cross, mind still clear as ever, Dumbledore noted for the first time that Madame Griselda was a muggle born.

"Jesus, Joseph, and Mary!"

Lifting the blanket ever so slightly a second time, Madame Griselda could visibly be seen to swallow. The elderly woman hesitated as she spoke. "Go…go and find Kettleburn…and for God's sake don't dawdle!"

Despite having no idea why the school nurse would request the Care of Magical Creatures professor, Dumbledore didn't delay in asking questions. Tom went out to check the grounds as Dumbledore checked Kettleburn's office and then the faculty lounge. Returning with Kettleburn, Dumbledore remained outside the infirmary. There he explained the situation to the Headmaster and Moody who had witnessed the two Professors running down a passageway. There, despite the sounds of breaking glass and falling equipment that could only mean the pair in the room were working desperately in an effort to save the girl, the trio, soon a quartet with the return of a panting Tom Riddle, solemnly awaited news of the inevitable.

##########################################

Entering the infirmary, Kevric Kettleburn moved to the form still draped by a blanket. Lifting the blanket, he could tell immediately why the school nurse had chosen to send for him.

Hesitantly, the woman inquired of him. "Have you ever seen _anything_ like this?"

He shook his head slightly. He knew she wasn't referring to the results of the attempt to apparate, but rather the…other thing that had started to…bleed out of her. "No. Never." Never wasn't precisely true. He actually had seen such a thing before, just never coming out of a human, be it wizard or Muggle.

"Well, what should we do?"

No more knowledgeable in the matter than the older, more experienced woman, Kettleburn just shrugged. "Nothing?"

He could tell by the woman's frown that she didn't like that idea, but neither did she offer a better solution. After only a few minutes, it appeared his suggestion had paid off.

A slight whimper preceded the blinking of Kitten's eyes.

He leaned closer and ignoring the very disturbing…blood that was matting it, stroked the girl's hair. "Well, hello there."

Despite the girl's miraculous survival, she did not appear to have escaped entirely unaffected. She seemed to still be in quite a bit of pain. Not wishing to have her become alarmed, Kevric did his best to keep her from noticing the…blood on her.

Quietly, but emphatically she spoke. "I do _not_ like that game."

Kevric smiled slightly. "No, I don't imagine you would, but that is something we can talk about later."

Kitten gave a weak hiss at the nurse as she neared with a vial of potion to lessen the girl's discomfort. Eyes still trained suspiciously on the nurse, Kitten made a request of him. "Make her go away."

Sensibly, rather than try to get the girl to drink the potion herself, Madame Griselda held it out to him. Kettleburn shook his head. Really, he didn't want to give Kitten anything, but he wouldn't have her suffering needlessly. "Just something to help her get to sleep."

Madame Griselda pursed her lips disapprovingly, but retrieved the potion he had requested. Only with the assurance that he would be taking her back to his office shortly did he manage to get the girl to drink it.

After Kitten drifted off to sleep Madame Griselda continued to stare at the girl in wonder. Finally shaking her head she spoke. "I always heard cats have nine lives, but…"

She turned to head to the door, but Kevric called her back.

"I'm just going to let the others know the child is fine."

Kevric shook his head. "No, you can't do that." He paused for a moment to consider how to handle the situation. Sweeping his arm across a nearby table, he deliberately knocked all the vials and instruments to the floor.

As he moved on to a nearby shelf to do the same, Madame Griselda gave a gasp. "What _are_ you doing?"

"This room has to look like we struggled desperately to save the girl's life." Crossing to a nearby cabinet he pulled out a clean set of clothes. Returning to the sleeping girl, very gently he removed her robes and undergarments. After cleaning her, he slipped a fresh nightdress over her head. It was sized for students much older and hung both long and loosely on her. Anticipating the same problem with the undergarments, Kevric didn't even bother with them. Piling the spoiled clothes with the blanket the girl had arrived in, he handed the pile to Madame Griselda. "Burn it all."

"And then what?"

"And then…" Kevric really wasn't sure what to do next. "And then…I don't know read a book for a few hours or something."

Kevric Kettleburn walked back to the front of the library. That there weren't any books on Themis or Purebloods in the regular sections of the library surprised him, but not greatly. Moving to the Restricted Section, with a look he dared the old librarian to ask to see a pass.

He might be young for his position, only in his early fifties, but he was experienced in his field and had the lack of fingers to prove it. It was bad enough this was his seventh year teaching at the school and Robert Binns refused to bother to learn his name, still referring to him as 'the new hire' or Perkins, the name Robert called everyone whose real name he couldn't remember. Still, as qualified as he knew he was, he was freely willing to admit there were still things he didn't know or understand. Like what happened yesterday.

Glancing through the titles, he frowned. There were no books on the topic he wanted. He did however notice a significant gap on the shelf he was searching. There were books on severing and shielding charms followed by a large empty space before the books about time turners, trolls, unicorns, veela, and werewolves started.

As he stared at the titles, the decrepit scent of lingering death began to waft towards him. Without even turning around Kevric asked a question of the librarian who had wandered up behind him, no doubt to make certain he was not 'besmirching' the books. "Doesn't the library have any books on Themises? Or even Purebloods in general?"

"Headmaster took them all out yesterday afternoon."

Kevric found that most interesting. "Afternoon or evening?"

The aged man narrowed his eyes in response. "I am aware of the difference."

Kevric raised an eyebrow while trying to make sense of it. The librarian misinterpreted his response and raised the book in his hand in a threatening manner. More afraid of what effect the effort involved in swinging might have on the librarian than being hit, Kevric decided to leave. Not wanting to leave entirely empty handed, he snatched the few books on unicorns that he did not already have copies of in his private collection.

Leaving the library, Kevric headed to the Deputy Headmaster's office. Even if Shackleton didn't have any books on Themises exclusively, he would no doubt have chapters on them in his books on dark creatures in general.

Shackleton couldn't even be bothered to pick up his head and stop doodling to answer. "Can't help you there. Dippet absconded with them all yesterday afternoon."

Kevric frowned. "What can you tell me about Themises?"

Still concentrated on his parchments, Shackleton answered in a dull, almost bored voice.

"Well, they are definitely classified as a kind of dark creature. They are soulless. Like werewolves and Quintaped, they started off as humans, but can't exactly be classified like that anymore.

They generally have an innate skill at wandless magic. As you know, wandless magic is much more difficult to undo than wand magic. Mind you, it is doable, but a lot more time and effort are involved. Hence, Dippet's refusal to consider taking the girl's wand away from her during or even after the beetle incident."

This rambling wasn't really getting him the information he wanted, so Kevric tried to steer the conversation. "Do they have any similarities to…other creatures?"

After dipping his quill into the ink and switching parchments, Shackleton droned on.

"Certainly. Like veela, they are considered to be somewhat succubus-like. But veela are shallow, very self involved. It's all about what they want. Themises are more extroverted. They like to spread their misery and despair.

Themises aren't anywhere near as strong as trolls, but they are considered far more dangerous because of their wizard-like intellect. They are sort of like leprechauns or imps in that way. Of course, leprechauns and imps are more mischievous while Themises are malicious.

Essentially, Themises are just evil."

Kevric shook his head. "You can't be serious, Shackleton. I mean sure I've heard stories, I know the things that some people who happened to bear the Themis name have done, but that doesn't make them all evil. Surely, you don't consider Kitten to be evil?"

Shackleton gave an unconcerned shrug, but kept his attention diligently focused on the parchment he was sketching on. "I thought you of all people would understand. You deal with creatures all day. Good and bad, those are just words. Virtuous or evil, merely ideas and ideals that we humans allocate each other. They have no meaning to or effect on other creatures. Beasts have no morals, they live according to their nature."

Dipping his quill into the inkpot, Shackleton briefly looked up in what Kevric supposed was meant as a reassuring manner. "I don't blame the girl. It's simply her nature. I don't hold her anymore responsible for her actions than I would a Red Cap or a hippogriff. But, if you inquire of me, 'do I think she is evil'? Yes, I do."

Kevric refused to give in. "Well, you're wrong."

Shackleton shrugged indifferently as he held a finished parchment up to the light for inspection. "Hagrid is fond of her. He stopped by earlier and was asking after her. If you ask me, that's proof enough. That boy is only ever interested in the most dangerous specimens he can find."

Kevric tried again to steer the conversation to the answers he sought. "Are there any concrete physical differences? Well, for example, Themises are considered to be purebloods. Their very blood is supposed to be more magical." As casually as he could, Kevric asked his next question. "Does it show in any way?"

Shackleton rubbed with his finger at an ink smear. "I don't follow what you mean."

Watching carefully for any reaction from the older professor, Kevric offered up a suggestion as nonchalantly as he could. "Say in coloring or -"

Still rubbing at the smear, Shackleton absentmindedly interrupted him. "Definitely. Dark hair, grey eyes, and pale skin are their hallmarks."

Kevric gave up. Binns was right, Shackleton was beyond useless. Still, there was one piece of information he might be able to get from Shackleton. "How did Dippet seem yesterday, when he came for the books?"

That got Shackleton's full attention. He looked up and actually laid down his quill to respond. "So you noticed it too?" Shackleton went on to answer confidently and with far more enthusiasm than was appropriate. "Tired. Rundown. Ill. Old. I can't imagine he will be with us much longer."

That answer wasn't very helpful. Whenever Dippet even so much as sneezed Shackleton began practicing the memorial speech he planned to recite to the students and staff. "I meant, did he seem at all bothered, nervous or evasive?"

"Oh. Can't say I noticed anything like that."

More than a bit frustrated, Kevric left Shackleton alone to continue shading over the word 'Deputy' in his title on all the official school parchments.

Returning to the small room off of his office where he usually kept the creatures he wanted to keep quarantined, Kevric discovered still sleeping Kitten had another visitor besides Tom Riddle. While Kevric was slightly concerned that the girl was still sleeping almost a full day later, he found reassurance in the knowledge that it was natural sleep caused by exhaustion. When he had prodded her too much while examining her earlier that morning she had responded by hissing and trying to scratch at his face until he let her go back to sleep. The attempt had been weak and not up to her usual vehemence, but still he thought it good progress.

He had allowed Tom in to see the girl late last night once he had her settled in here. The boy had been desperate with worry. Since then, Tom had refused to leave. Of course, Tom had not at all approved of him doing things that had bothered the girl. Riddle had tried to stop him from continuing the exam or trying to exam the girl again later. In the end, Kevric had agreed with the boy and let the girl continue sleeping. Though he was the Care of Magical Creatures Professor and the girl would definitely qualify as a magical creature, he hoped she knew her own needs better than he did because quite frankly he hadn't a clue what to do for her. Potions and healing charms were all well and fine but sleep was a far more powerful restorative.

He had left the very devoted Tom alone with the sleeping child while he went out for a few minutes to the library in search of some answers. His instructions to not to let anyone else in had been very clear, yet still he found someone other than just Tom in the room with the girl.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster."

The Headmaster was gazing at the girl, clearly concerned. He turned and spoke softly as not to wake the girl. "Master Kettleburn. You will have to excuse Mr. Riddle's disregard for your order. I outrank you. Miss Grindelwald seems to be doing remarkably well given the circumstances. You and Madame Griselda are to be commended. Not literally of course, no doubt the Ministry is most displeased with your performance."

Kevric nodded, but the Headmaster had already turned his gaze back to the girl. Kevric took a moment to consider the man before him. He would hardly call Armando Dippet an intriguing man, yet there were some spots in the man's past that could be described as interesting. There had been plenty of rumors and speculation about Dippet years ago following the holocaust at the Wizengot. Specifically, most regarded his relationship with Kitten's mother years ago. Well, to be more accurate the speculation was more about a relationship _with_ Mnemosyne Themis and possible relation _to_ Artemisia.

Despite the fact that it was as a salamander that Dippet had managed to survive the fire in the Ministry, more than a few people suggested that had she wanted to, Mnemosyne could have made the fire burn Dippet the salamander as well. Not an all together unreasonable suggestion given that her fire never spread, it burned only in the room she desired. Some thought it simply professional courtesy from one Seer to another. There had never been proof of any other relationship between the two. Still, the allegation alone was nearly enough to prevent Dippet from being appointed Headmaster of Hogwarts. As Dippet was well known to say, 'we must not allow for even the appearance of impropriety'.

It would have been interesting, Kevric thought, to see how Dippet had interacted with the girl's mother. To see if there was any validity to the rumors. Watching now and having seen before Dippet's interaction with this particular girl, Kevric would have to guess the rumors were unfounded. The Headmaster certainly looked worried, even anxious and perhaps remorseful, but not nearly enough for that to be the case.

Still, one could never tell. The Headmaster was a reserved man and usually well in control of his emotions. Stepping back into his office, Kevric decided to give the man a few minutes before confronting him.

Seated at his desk, Kevric had a perfect view into his quarantine room. When Dippet exited it, Kevric motioned for the Headmaster to close the door. He started the conversation with something else that had been bothering him for a while.

"Tom is very devoted to Kitten."

Dippet recognized and responded to the implication of his tone. "You say that as though it were a bad thing."

"I just wonder if it might not be the healthiest thing for him, given his personal history."

The Headmaster seemed unconcerned as he brushed the suggestion aside. "Would that we all had someone so devoted to us."

Kevric was disappointed to have the matter so carelessly disregarded, but promising himself to bring it up again later let it go for the moment. "I would like to take at the books you took out of the library."

Dippet's total lack of…attempt at subtlety or pretense in answering caught him by surprise. "No."

"I have some questions. I want to get some background information on Kitten and her…." Kind? Her species? He didn't want to say it out loud, as if by not saying it he was somehow taking credence away from the idea that the child wasn't…well wasn't quite a real child. "…On Kitten."

"What is it you wish to know, Master Kettleburn?"

Was he just imagining it or had there been a touch of suspicion, or was it apprehension, in Dippet's reply? Kevric wasn't sure. If only he could be sure the Headmaster already knew, but he wasn't. "Just basic information on how to care for…Kitten."

This time he felt almost certain that in Dippet's response there was suspicion and deceit. "There is no need of consulting a book for that. Themis children are just like ordinary children in most respects. Was there anything else? Something more specific that you wished to address?"

Almost certain. He felt almost certain that Dippet was holding something back. But not completely certain. Having already likely tipped the Headmaster off that something was wrong, Kevric had no desire to narrow down the possibilities. He let the matter drop. "Nothing specific."

Their eyes locked for a moment in recognition that neither was telling the truth. Eventually Dippet broke the silence.

"Has she had the mandrake potion yet today?"

Kevric shook his head. "No, I haven't given it to her."

"You will need to wake her and get her to take it."

"I'm not giving it to her anymore. I don't want to introduce anything unnatural into her system while she is recovering."

It was quite clear his refusal did not sit well with the Headmaster. "She needs to take it. Mr. Moody has already been back once today to check on her condition. Others may come as well. We cannot have them discovering that she is an unregistered animagus."

Still Kevric held his ground. "Then register her because I am not giving her anything that isn't necessary. Tell them she learned it in her Transfiguration lessons."

"Master Kettleburn, that will not work. Mr. Moody is already aware of what transpired during the girl's lessons, specifically that there really weren't any lessons. Besides, even the Minister is not foolish enough to believe she just happened to have the same animagus form as the one she was purportedly transfigured into for several months."

Kevric was willing to grant the last point, but not the entire argument. "Then just tell them she was an animagus. It is after all quite an accomplishment for someone so young, Pureblood or not."

The look of absolute horror and disgust that transfixed the Headmaster's face told Kevric he had said something wrong.

"An accomplishment? You would call it an accomplishment? Master Kettleburn, I would not have you speak on matters of which you have no understanding. An accomplishment?"

As Dippet went on speaking, he seemed to grow more distressed with each word.

"Master Dumbledore is considered by many to be one of, if not the most powerful wizard of his generation. No doubt when Mistress Marchbanks was here administering the OWLs you heard her go on at length about the things he did with his wand during his own NEWTs. Clearly, he has a detailed knowledge of the field of Transfiguration and yet he has never completed the animagus transformation. Have you ever stopped to consider why? Do you have any idea of what besides power is required? There is necessary such a will, such an overwhelmingly desperate want in order complete a transfiguration of that nature!"

As Dippet went on to describe the conditions during his own animagus transformation, Kevric realized how wrong he had been to entertain the idea that the man had had any sort of an intimate relationship with the woman who caused the ordeal.

"When I underwent my own transformation I did not find it to be a great accomplishment. It was a frenzied effort to stay alive, to find a way to cope. Have you any idea, can you even begin to comprehend what it is like to be trapped in a room surrounded by friends and colleagues, even mere acquaintances, and watch as they are all…." Dippet broke of from that thought, but did continue speaking. "In an animagus form, one does not experience things the way ordinary people do. There is an identification with the chosen animal and in return a lessening of human responses and emotions. Feelings are less complex, more distant.

When it became clear that the girl was an animagus my thoughts were not 'what an accomplishment'. My thoughts were 'why?' What did Grindelwald say or do to her or in front of her to make her so desperately desire to be a cat or to not be a little girl."

Not knowing what to say in response, Kevric said nothing. As Dippet continued speaking his voice seemed to almost fail away.

"And you would speak of it as an accomplishment? No, Master Kettleburn, I would not have you speak on matters of which you have no understanding."

Not really having an adequate response to Dippet's monologue, Kevric allowed for a solemn moment of silence before keeping to his earlier words. "I'll handle keeping Moody away, but I'm not giving Kitten the potion again until I am confident that any danger has passed."

Dippet gave a sigh of disappointment, but made no further attempt to challenge him. In for a knut, why not go in for a galleon? Kevric threw out another idea he had been playing with.

"I'm keeping Kitten in my office for observation right now, but once she is better I'm moving her to Hufflepuff. I wouldn't leave Robert Binns in charge of a flobberworm, never mind a child."

Maybe, despite his initial reluctance, Dippet gave in so easily on the potion issue because he did realize the reasoning to it. Whatever the reason, it didn't follow to Kevric's second request.

"Certainly not, Master Kettleburn. There will be no changing of Houses. Here at Hogwarts, we have certain ways of doing things. The Book selects the children to be invited to attend Hogwarts and the Hat decides which House they are to be placed in. It is tradition. We do _not s_econd guess the Sorting Hat."

Kevric really wasn't surprised to have his suggestion refused. Still, it had been worth a try. He had easily followed what the Headmaster was saying…well up until Dippet turned with a look of absolute disdain to the closed door and again spoke.

"And we certainly do _not _pour corrective fluid on the Book and write in the names we want. Am I making myself clear?"

Before Kevric could ask what exactly corrective fluid was, Dippet swept out of the room.


	41. Chapter 41

_Chapter 41_

_A/N Thank you Maria for taking the time to beta this._

_To anyone hasn't read Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them, particularly fic authors, I highly recommend it. The sheer number of plot bunnies living in there is astounding. Excerpted from the entry on puffskeins:_

Spherical in shape and covered in soft, custard-colored fur, it is a docile creature that has no objection to being cuddled or thrown about. Easy to care for, it emits a low humming noise when contented. From time to time a very long, thin, pink tongue will emerge from the depths of the Puffskein and snake through the house searching for food. The Puffskein is a scavenger that will eat anything from leftovers to spiders, but it has a particular preference for sticking its tongue up the nose of sleeping wizards and eating their bogies.

Kevric Kettleburn had found it both sweet and mildly disturbing that Tom Riddle had refused to leave Kitten's side all weekend. But now it was Monday and enough was enough.

"Tom, you should go get ready. It's almost time for classes to be starting."

From the look on Tom's face it seemed that idea hadn't occurred to him. "I don't think Kitten is ready to go back to classes yet."

Actually since yesterday afternoon Kitten had seemed back to her old self. Maybe a bit more easily tired than was usual for her, but nothing near the day before. Still, for appearance's sake Kevric didn't plan to release her to go to classes for several days.

"No, but that's no reason for you to miss your classes, Tom."

Kitten seemed to be of the same mind as Tom. "My Tom needs to stay here with me. I do _not_ like to be left all alone."

Kevric raised a hand in submission. "Nobody said anything about leaving you here all alone."

Tom spoke up in his smoothest voice. "Professor, you have classes to teach. Surely it would be simpler for me to miss a few classes than for you to cancel all of yours. I'll speak to Headmaster Dippet. I'm sure he will excuse my absences."

Kevric was also sure that if Tom asked, the Headmaster would let him have his way. He couldn't understand what the hold was that Tom Riddle had over Dippet. Frankly he was beginning to wonder if the boy had naked pictures of Dippet.

"That won't be necessary, Tom. I'll stop by and check on Kitten between my classes, but I was actually thinking of someone else to keep Kitten company."

After seeing Tom's look of distrust, Kitten adopted one as well. Hers didn't last long. It quickly changed to one of excitement as Kevric brought in a custard colored puff of fur from the other room.

"I was thinking one of the puffskeins could keep you company. What do you think, Kitten?"

Kevric had felt miserable about the misunderstanding with the puffskeins since Hagrid's discovery. In hindsight if he had stopped to consider it, the girl's attempt to head towards the Forbidden Forest after her description of its name as 'pretty' probably could have indicated there was a communications problem.

Kitten extended her hand to take the puffskein, but before actually touching it, she pulled her hand back sharply. Her eyes were wide with anxiety as she asked him, "Do cats eat puffskeins?"

That was a problem he hadn't anticipated. Cats and kneazles were very fond of eating puffskeins. He still didn't understand why it was that he girl wanted to be a cat. Dippet's reasons for wanting to be a salamander were easy enough to figure out, but he just didn't get her reasons. Still, there was no mistaking it, she did want to be a cat.

As for the current problem, well maybe what Kitten didn't know wouldn't hurt her…or the puffskein. "No puffskeins don't taste very good. Cats don't eat them."

Of course, if she did transfigure, things could get really ugly. "Cats don't eat them, but you remember yesterday I explained you don't have to drink that potion anymore, but you still can't change into a cat."

As Kitten again held her hands out to take the puffskein, Kevric asked her a question. "So do you think it would be alright for Tom and I to go off to our classes? Tom can come back to visit you again just as soon as all his classes are done for the day."

Kitten examined the puffskein carefully before responding. "He does not look very intimidating. He has not got any claws and his teeth have not grown in yet. What can he do if someone starts to bother me?"

Puffskeins never actually develop teeth, they just use their immensely long tongues to seek out food and swallow it whole. But Kevric didn't bother to explain that. "Don't worry, Kitten. No one is going to bother you. Now do you know what a puffskein's favorite food is?"

As if on cue the puffskein's long pink tongue zipped out and up the girl's nose. She gave a squeal of delight as the puffskein cleaned out all of her snots. Cheerfully she dismissed Tom from the room. "Bye, my Tom."

Tom's jaw dropped as his precious Kitten so carelessly sent him on his way. Kevric felt a small pang of sympathy for the boy as he guided him out of the door and closed it. "You can stop by again after your classes are over, Tom."

"Now Kitten I will come check on you between all of my classes, but if you need anything in between just -"

A knock at the door interrupted him. Hopefully it was not Tom trying to get back in. "Who is it?"

"It's jus' me, oh an' Professor Binns."

'Just me' wasn't a very informative answer, but the accent it was said in made it easy enough to figure out who it was. "Come on in , Hagrid."

Hagrid entered the room but oddly enough was holding his hands behind his back. Not to be outdone in the oddness department, Binns refused to enter the room.

"You go in first, make sure she didn't die while no one was watching her. I don't want to be in a room that has a dead person."

Hagrid ignored Binns. "Hello Kitten."

Kitten smiled up at him and showed off the puffskein. "Hello Hagrid. Look at my puffskein!"

Hagrid bent down low with both his hands still behind his back. "Oh, dat there's a fine puffskein yeh 'ave. I heard yeh wasn't feelin' well and I'm glad teh see yer feelin' better. I got somethin' fer yeh meself."

One hand came around to reveal a box of ice mice. Kitten rewarded Hagrid with a big smile. "Mice are my favorite. I like to chase them around before I eat them."

Unlike chocolate frogs, ice mice didn't move. They just made your teeth chatter when you ate them. Not thinking sugar the best breakfast, Kevric pried the box from her hands as gently as he could. "We'll save those for later. Right now you need to stay in bed and rest. No chasing anything."

Kitten looked disappointed, but contented herself playing with the puffskein.

Still looking extremely uncomfortable, Binns had entered the room. Seeing Hagrid's present of ice mice he looked even more distressed. "I…I brought you a present too." He ruffled through his robe pockets to produce a half eaten bag of flavored beans. Not wanting to accidentally touch the supposedly unhealthy young girl, he dropped the bag into her lap.

Kitten picked up the bag and examined it. "It is open already."

"Yes…well…I opened them for you!"

Maybe Binns thought that brief visit was fulfillment enough of his duties as the girl's Head of House. "Well, I really must be going. I have to go to…to the…go…I have to go."

After Binns left, Hagrid produced the other surprise he had been holding behind his back. Hagrid had really outdone himself in picking the collection of flowers that he tried to present to the girl. Kevric recognized some from the grounds and the school greenhouses, but a few were unfamiliar to him. Frowning he realized Hagrid must have again disregarded the rules about entering the forest.

He was about to comment when he noticed the change that had come over Kitten. She wasn't smiling at Hagrid anymore. Now she wouldn't even look at him. She held the puffskein close and turned her face into her pillow.

Hagrid noticed the change as well. Setting the flowers down he quickly excused himself. "Well, I guess yer getting' kind o' tired so I'll leave yeh to get some rest."

The flowers Hagrid had brought were quite bright and cheerful, but they seemed to upset the girl. She kept glancing up at them and then turning her head down into her pillow. Kevric didn't know what to make of it.

"Don't you like your flowers?"

Kitten hid her face again.

"I think they are pretty. Don't you?"

Kitten agreed without any enthusiasm.

Kevric watched the girl's unhappy eyes gazing at the flowers.

"But you don't like them. Why don't you like them?"

The girl tilted her head, averting her eyes before she answered.

"They are going to die now."

He looked at the pretty bunch of flowers. It was true, now that Hagrid had clipped them they would, in a few days, wither and die. He just hadn't thought of it that way before.

The girl met his eyes before speaking again. He wondered if he was reading too much into it to think she wasn't referring to Hagrid. The look in her eyes would make him wonder just how much she really did or didn't remember.

"I did not tell him to do it. I did not want him to do it, but he did it for me. Does that still make it my fault?"

Suddenly, it wasn't so hard to figure out why the girl had wanted so much to not be a little girl.

He wanted to do something to take that look of guilt from the girl's eyes.

"No, it wasn't your fault. It was his choice."

His words had no effect on the look that was in her eyes. A lie was a lie and it was wrong to lie. Still, he wanted to take away at least some of that guilt.

"Didn't Hagrid tell you? These are magical flowers. If you put the stems back in the dirt, they start to grow again."

Kitten looked back at the flowers again. "Are you sure?"

Kevric nodded. "You should sleep some more. I will take them outside now and replant them. I know the perfect spot, right by the lake."

She laid back against her pillows and began feeding beans to the happily humming puffskein.

As he was going out the door, he ran into the Headmaster. Seeing the floral arrangement the older man carried, he motioned him back out of the room before the girl could notice them.

"Don't give her cut flowers. Try a potted plant or even candy if you must, but not cut flowers."

Dippet clearly didn't understand, but on matters concerning Kitten most of the staff had become willing to gladly take any words of advice offered.

"Where are you going with those?"

Kevric shrugged awkwardly. "I told her I would plant them by the lake."

Dippet looked at the bunch of cut flowers with an uncertain look. "And are you going to?"

Kevric looked even more uncomfortable, but nodded. In response to the amused look he received, he snapped. "I'm a wizard, I have a magical wand. It will only take a minute to do."

A bit less intensely, he continued. "I don't want to have lied to her any more than necessary."

############################################

Armando Dippet looked on in revulsion from the doorway as the child ate a breakfast consisting exclusively of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor beans.

He had never had, nor ever wanted children. It wasn't that that he didn't like children, it was that they frightened him. They were so fragile and easily broken. So many horrible things that could befall them. They could have accidents or develop diseases, become lost or injured.

The fates could be exceedingly cruel.

He had never desired to put the necessary emotional attachment or personal involvement in something or someone that didn't carry a warrantee or some kind of a guarantee to be around forever. Truthfully, it wasn't just children. Even with the people on his staff he did everything in his power to keep a high degree of professionalism. Seldom did he address any of them by their given name. Even with his familiar, Mr. Keys, he did his utmost to maintain a certain distance.

Despite his best efforts to remain aloof and unattached , he had felt more than a bit chagrined when Master Dumbledore had related the news of the girl's demise. It had bothered him that his last thoughts concerning the girl had been that she was evil. But what had bothered him even more was the small part of him that had experienced a slight feeling of relief.

Oh, not that with the girl's death none of Artemisia's predictions or his own Visions could come true. He had experienced more than a bit of relief at that thought and held no remorse for it. What he regretted was the slight sense of relief that no longer would he need to spend an hour a day in her presence. He had been mortified to acknowledge he had even for a moment had such a base thought.

To learn several hours later that Master Dumbledore's tidings of doom had been more than a bit exaggerated had been welcome news. And yet, with the girl now looking at him expectantly, he again found himself experiencing a profound sense of dread at the prospect of spending time with her.

He wasn't like Master Kettleburn. He just didn't know what it was children wanted or expected. Yesterday afternoon he had sent Mr. Hagrid out to select the box of chocolates he now presented to the girl. The flowers Kettleburn had confiscated too had been picked by Mr. Hagrid.

It had been over two hundred years since he had been a child himself. While there likely had been others, the only games he could remember from then were checkers and chess. He wasn't trying to be obstinate, but with the girl staring at him it was the only idea he could come up with.

"Would you like to play checkers?"

"I can play chess."

Suddenly realization hit him. "You don't know how to play checkers, do you?"

The girl hesitated but a fraction of a second before adopting a rather standoffish attitude. "Of course I do!"

Dippet sighed. Why he hadn't realized it before was beyond him. As was 'why' the girl would choose to lie when the truth was so obvious.

"You really ought not to lie. For one thing, it's a filthy habit. Also, you aren't very good at it."

Conjuring the necessary board and pieces, Dippet explained the few rules to the game. Though the puffskein's habit of extending it's tongue to capture and devour only his game pieces left him at a severe disadvantage, Dippet still found the hour far more tolerable than any he had previously spent with the girl. He might even have gone so far as to call it enjoyable.

At least until he had offered the girl something to drink. Though Master Kettleburn might not believe the mandrake potion was necessary, he disagreed. After conjuring two glasses from the kitchens, into the girl's glass he covertly added three drops.

After a disdainful sniff of the milk the girl pushed hers aside. "Professor Kettleburn says I do _not _have to drink that anymore."

"Master Kettleburn is not the one responsible for you. He does not get to decide these matters."

The girl just stared at him quite unconvinced. Though he believed it futile to argue with her, he tried again. "Drink the milk."

He really hadn't expected the girl to do as he requested, but surprisingly she did. Still, the look in her eyes as she drank made him feel uneasy. It didn't take long to discover the cause of her smug look. Taking a sip from his own glass, he discovered precisely how foul tasting mandrake potion was.

##########################################

The door had been left open, so Albus Dumbledore quietly poked his head into the girl's bedchamber to make sure Dippet was not around. The Headmaster had made it quite clear that Dumbledore was not to be here.

Young Minerva was sitting up, propped up by several pillows, but looking incredibly healthy nonetheless. Friday, the night of the accident, Riddle had been in a panic, but he hadn't seemed at all confused about the girl's hiding spot. He had been adamant that he had _seen_ the girl go into the wardrobe and never come back out. Yet after only a moment alone with Kettleburn, Riddle had backtracked from that statement. He now claimed that he had _thought_ he heard her go into the wardrobe, but with his eyes closed so he really couldn't be certain. Perhaps she had deliberately tried to fool him by noisily opening and closing the wardrobe doors. Riddle had seemed far more sincere the first time. Now watching the relatively healthy looking young girl, Dumbledore wasn't quite sure what to believe.

A bed tray was set before her with what appeared to be the greater part of a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans spilled across it. He smiled watching the girl select a bean and offer it to the small mound of fur seated beside her.

As he entered the room and spoke, she gazed up at him. "Hello."

He watched the girl eye him warily. "I am very happy to see you are feeling better."

Still, he got no response beyond a cagey examination. Perhaps a different tack. That first day, he had gotten the girl to at least speak to him by saying something that asked for a response.

"What _is_ that creature you have there? He looks most interesting."

Puffskeins were such a common pet in the Wizarding World that of course, he already knew exactly what it was. Still, his gambit worked. The girl suddenly became very excited and talkative.

"He is a puffskein. He is very nice. He does not have any teeth yet, but he has a very long tongue and he likes to eat bogies. Do you have any bogies for him?"

"Ah…" Nothing in the world felt quite so wonderfully ticklish as having your nose cleaned out by a puffskein, but alas not expecting to find a puffskein available, he had recently used a handkerchief to blow his nose. "Actually, I have something for you. A present."

The girl seemed excited, but confused by this. She gave an unsure frown. "Is it Christmas again already?"

Seeing Kettleburn's puffskein, what was likely one of Binns's bags of Bertie Bott's beans, and knowing that at least Hagrid and the Headmaster had also already been by with presents, he was not terribly surprised by her confusion.

"No, it's just a get well present."

"Oh."

He could see this really didn't mean anything to her. Now that Hagrid had made the connection the first time, it wasn't that difficult to realize when the girl didn't understand something. You could tell by the closed silence and by her frown, quickly followed by an unconvincing look of knowing. She would not openly admit her lack of comprehension.

"It's just something you do. When you visit someone who has been sick, you sometimes bring them a present. It's…well, it's considerate."

The girl seemed to grasp that idea readily enough. She tilted her head, curious and wanting to get a better glimpse at the box in his hand. He handed the box over for inspection.

He had put a great deal of thought into his gift.

When he entered Honeydukes, his first idea had been Chocolate Frogs. He remembered Grindelwald had once made a reference to how much she liked those. He quickly decided that would be a poor choice given the high insertion rate of the new card featuring himself for his 'defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald.'

The next idea he had considered was Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. Considering his lack of success with the girl so far, he had quickly given up that idea. With his luck, the girl would blow a large bubble and get the gum caught in her long hair.

Pumpkin pasties were tasty, but rather humdrum.

The blood flavored lollipops and acid pops were definitely not the way to go, but the lollipop that changed colors and flavors seemed like a good idea. But then, he worried she might bite off a piece and choke on it. That same concern had eliminated sherbet lemons, everlasting gobstoppers, and all the other hard candies.

He had left the candy shop and apparated to the bookstore in Diagon Alley. There he had perused the children's section, but hadn't found anything suitable. Most of the children's books perpetuated prejudices and stereotypes. There were trolls who lived under bridges and tried to eat any and all creatures that went by, mice being chased by a knife wielding muggle, a giant that liked to eat people who climbed up his beanstalk, a werewolf that ate a little girl and her grandmother, and a hag that tried to bake children in her oven.

Most disturbing of all was the tale of a muggle who repeatedly attempted to get rid of his pet kneazle by throwing things at it, sending it off in a hot air balloon, paying a little boy to drown it, feeding it to a dog, and shooting at it with a muggle pistol.

Appalled, he had quickly left. While wandering the streets he had caught sight of the perfect present in one of the shop windows. A beautiful porcelain doll with long dark hair that could be combed and arranged. It was quite odd really, when they had found the girl's room the night of Grindelwald's capture, there had been books and puzzles, but no dolls or stuffed animals. He was certain the girl liked playing with hair and didn't all little girls like dolls?

The little girl smiled at the brightly decorated box, looking quite pleased. He looked on, waiting for her to begin tearing off the wrapping paper. Certainly he regretted that he had had to come down to Binns's level of resorting to bribery, but finally, he had managed to do something that had not displeased the girl. She poked at the ribbon, but made no effort to undo it or remove the wrapping paper.

"It is very pretty. I like it."

After another minute of watching her carefully examine the box Dumbledore had a thought. Minerva's parents had been Seers and according to Dippet the girl was as well. Perhaps, she didn't need to unwrap it to tell what was in it.

That thought went out the window as the girl began to shake the box. She smiled. "And it makes a pretty noise too! Thank you."

Listening to the porcelain shatter against the sides of the box Dumbledore decided not to suggest unwrapping the box. The girl seemed pleased enough with it as it was. After a few more minutes of shaking the box, Minerva moved it aside to return her attention to the tray of beans and the puffskein.

She eyed him appraisingly for a moment. It would seem she had finally decided he was not so awful after all. "Would you like a bean?"

He smiled at the girl, but really he didn't want one. He had long ago developed a distaste for Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Still, the girl was making an effort, so he wasn't going to decline. "My, there are so many of them. Which one do you recommend?"

The girl shrugged, unconcerned. "Take whichever one you want. We already ate all the good ones. Only the nasty ones are left."

He raised an amused eyebrow at this proclamation. "Oh? What have we left?"

The girl wore a very serious expression as she pointed to a series of beans. "This one is asparagus, this one is mustard, this one is yellow snow, this one is celery, yogurt, yak spit, marmalade, lettuce, stinky feet, arugula, lima bean…"

Clearly, the girl had a dislike of vegetables. He reached out to take one of the beans the girl had not yet gotten to. As he raised it to his mouth, the girl appeared to have changed her mind about letting him have which ever bean he wanted.

"Wait, that one is bogie flavored. The puffskein gets those."

While he was painfully aware that there were snot flavored beans, the chances of this particular bean actually being snot flavored were astronomical. Still, they were getting along so well, he wasn't going to ruin her little game. He held the bean out to the puffskein.

The puffskein certainly did seem to want it, but while snot was their favorite food, puffskeins would eat almost anything. When the puffskein finished eating the 'bogie' flavored bean, he began to hum loudly.

"You can pick another."

"Do you know, when I was your age, I once found a vomit flavored bean."

"There is a vomit flavored one here, too."

The girl's hand hovered over the pile of beans, it seemed to be searching them. Finally, her delicate fingers enclosed on a single bean which she quickly dropped into his hand.

Dumbledore held the bean uncomfortably for a moment. It was the same color that the vomit flavored bean had been, but so many things could be that color, burnt butter, dirty snow, mustard. The girl was only pretending, of course. The whole fun – if you could call it that – of the Every Flavor Beans was that you couldn't tell in advance what you were going to be eating. Like the 'bogie' flavored one, the chances of this one being vomit flavored was astronomical.

The girl looked so solemn and serious. He would play along with her little game. He popped the bean into his mouth and chewed.

"Excuse me."

With his hand over his mouth, gagging, he hurriedly made his way out the door.

##########################################

Alastor Moody had been told by the Magical Creatures professor that the girl was sleeping and wasn't to be disturbed, but he could hear the girl talking. Someone was in the room with her. He turned the knob slowly, trying not to make a sound. The element of surprise was very valuable in auror work.

Despite his best efforts, when he got the door open, the girl was staring at him. She looked like Artemisia, dark hair, pale skin, and gray eyes, but her voice, her words were cold like Grindelwald.

"You should knock. It is _not_ nice to just walk into someone's room."

"Who were you talking to?"

The girl's eyes narrowed. "You. I was talking to you. You did _not _knock."

He frowned at her attempt to be difficult. "Before I came into the room, who were you talking to?"

He couldn't help but tense and grip his own wand as she reached into the folds of the blankets around her. What ever he had been anticipating her hands returning with, it wasn't a fluffy little creature. As he spoke, he reached out a hand towards it.

"A puffskein? You were talking to a puffskein?"

Grindelwald's influence on the girl was easy to see. As his hand approached to examine the puffskein, she pulled it back, clutching it to herself. "Mine!"

Moody flushed as he pulled his hand back quicker than was respectable. He looked around the room. There wasn't anyone else there. Talking to a puffskein was…was...it wasn't what he had expected, but he couldn't find anything to contradict her statement.

As his eyes returned to the girl, he noticed she was searching him with her eyes. He returned an uncertain look as she first checked out his hands and then leaned around to look behind him. Not finding what she sought, her eyes glinted maliciously. "What did you bring me?"

"What?"

The girl tilted her head, eyeing him angrily. "My present. Where is it?"

Moody was confused. "Present? I didn't bring you anything."

This clearly did not please her. Her next words came out slow and demanding. "Everyone-brings-me-presents. It is expected."

Moody stared at her. "Why would I bring you a present?"

Again her answer came with an air of displeasure. "I am sick. It is considerate."

Considerate? So young and already, she was so like Grindelwald. "You don't look sick and I don't have a present for you."

She practically scowled at him. After a moment, she seemed to recover from her disappointment. "If you did not bring me a present, then why are you here?"

As soon as he spoke, Moody realized he shouldn't have. "I am supposed to watch you."

Again she gave an angry tilt of her head. "What for?"

The silence that followed that question was long and uncomfortable.

She was quickly growing impatient with him. Alastor looked at the bed and the side table. He couldn't see where she had her wand.

"Well, can you tell me a story?"

He glanced to the door. He was no longer sure what was going on. What was she trying at? What was her angle? "A story?"

The girl nodded. Again, he looked to the door. Seeing no help on the way and her impatience growing, he struggled to think of a story.

"Well, there was this girl and she was walking in the woods. And she came to a cottage and she went inside. It belong-"

"-Did she knock?"

Moody shrugged. "No."

The girl eyed him disapprovingly. "Are you sure it was a girl? It sounds like you."

He didn't know how to respond so he tried to go on with the story.

"The cottage belonged to three bears and the bears had been trying to have breakfast, but -"

"-No, no! That is not a very good story. Tell me a good story!"

Moody shrugged again. "What's a good story?"

The girl was frowning at him again. "One that is interesting. One about a puffskein."

She held up the puffskein for him to see again.

Moody shook his head. "You can't have an interesting story about a puffskein. It's just a stupid ball of hair. Puffskeins don't do anything, they just sit there."

The girl's eyes flashed dangerously. He really wanted to be able to see where her wand was kept. "You are nasty and foul smelling!"

"What?"

His nostrils flared angrily. Sure, he wasn't one of those narcissistic people who spent half the day before the mirror, but he was hygienic.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You are _not_ considerate! I have a puffskein and I think they are very interesting."

After a moment of frowning at him, she gave him an appraising look. When she again addressed him, it was not at all a question. "You do know that puffskeins like to eat bogies."

Moody stared at her uncomprehending. She raised her other eyebrow. When he didn't get her intent, she continued speaking.

"He could help you."

Still, Moody didn't get what it was she seemed to expect of him.

"You should let him have yours."

Moody shook his head.

The girl again gave him a disapproving look. "I know you have some. I can see them."

Moody looked to the door.

"Are you saving them for someone?"

Moody returned his gaze to the girl when she asked her next question. "Are you going to eat them?"

"Of course not!"

"So let him have them."

"No!"

"If you are not going to eat them, why cannot he have them?"

Moody didn't have a good answer to that question, but he wasn't going to let the puffskein have them. His lack of response again angered the girl. She laid back on her pile of pillows before sharing her opinion of him.

"I think you are mean."

He knew it wasn't a good idea to get her angry. There was no predicting what would happen, so he tried to change the topic.

"What's his name?"

The girl was eyeing him again. "You are not very smart. He _cannot_ talk."

Moody sighed. She was deliberately being difficult. "I was asking you. I know he can't talk."

The girl was giving him that annoyed, superior look again. "How would I know his name? He never told me, he _cannot _talk."

Moody sputtered a few times, trying to come up with a response. "What did _you_ name him?"

"I did _not_ name him."

"You're supposed to make up a name for him."

The girl seemed affronted by the idea. "Would you like it if I made up a name for you? I can think of a few words to describe you right now."

Moody had had more than enough of this. "Just a minute now-"

"-What's going on here?"

Moody turned to the door as another person entered. Kettleburn admonished him before addressing the girl.

"Mr. Moody, I told you Kitten was resting and not to be disturbed. Kitten, you should be sleeping."

The girl quickly took control of the conversation and distorted the situation. She looked at the Care of Magical Creatures professor with mock earnestness.

"I was trying to go to sleep, but he came in. He did not knock. He kept talking and I _cannot _sleep with him talking all the time. He is very mean and _not_ at all considerate. He said bad things about my puffskein and he would _not _give him his bogies."

"That's not true! That isn't what happened!"

Kettleburn turned to regard him.

"Mr. Moody, I told you not to come in here, yet here you are. That tells me you are not to be trusted."

Moody was offended at the allegation. He held his head up high. "You are going to take her word over mine?"

"There is an easy way to see who is telling the truth."

Moody nodded his agreement. "That there is." Let the professor produce some truth serum and see who was telling the truth. Moody frowned, puzzled when instead Kettleburn approached him. The professor leaned his body down slightly and angled his head up. Clearly the professor was under her spell. Rising, he pronounced his judgment.

"You still have all your bogies. Leave now or I will have to speak to the Headmaster."

_tbc_


	42. Chapter 42

_Chapter 42_

A/N Thank you, thank you Maria for making the time to beta this, particularly given how late I managed to get that last part out to you.

Wergild is 'man price.' Part of the Old English code of kinship, traditionally each rank of society was evaluated at a definite monetary value. The price had to be paid to a dead man's kinsmen by the killer wishing to avoid vengeance. Money wasn't really the point as much as the proof that the kinsmen had found a way to satisfy their grief. This is the traditional meaning which is mentioned in an earlier chapter. In this chapter we will be exploring a few other options on how to exact compensation for the loss of a kinsman.

#### Change in narrator

**** elapse in time

Admittedly yesterday's visit with Minerva had ended a bit more abruptly than he had hoped, but Albus Dumbledore had never been one to give up. However, peeking into Kettleburn's office today he found an obstacle that hadn't been there yesterday; Professor Kettleburn.

"Hello Albus."

Fortunately the young professor seemed to find his presence here much more tolerable than Dippet would have.

"Kevric."

It was clear by his tone that Kettleburn already knew the answer before asking his question. "So Dumbledore, what ever brings you here?"

"I had a free moment and thought I would stop in to say hello to Miss Grindelwald."

Kettleburn seemed amused. "A free moment? That's funny, I thought you had a class this hour?"

Dumbledore offered up a slight smile. "Odd that you should mention it, I was under the impression, apparently mistaken, that you had a class this hour too."

Kettleburn shrugged. "No point in holding the fourth year Hufflepuff class with all the fourth year Hufflepuffs gone."

Regrettably that much Dumbledore knew was true. Since the revelation of the girl's presence at Hogwarts, most classes had decreased in size and a few, like fourth year Hufflepuffs and the first year Ravenclaws, had been eliminated entirely.

"So what did you do, let your class out ten minutes early so you could beat Riddle to getting here?"

Slightly abashed, Dumbledore admitted the truth. "Fifteen minutes. Tom can run quite quickly." As if it made it somehow more acceptable, he added, "I gave them extra homework."

Kettleburn no longer seemed amused as he responded. "That he can. Particularly when he is running off to Dippet to snitch on you. If you haven't been there already, expect to be called to the Headmaster's office sometime today for a reprimand. Really Albus, did you think neither Tom nor Dippet would notice the present you left?"

Now that Kevric mentioned it, it probably wasn't the best thought out plan he had ever had.

"I must say, your present certainly caused quite a row last night. Tom threw quite the fit trying to get the box away from Kitten. When I came in the doll was all in little pieces."

Not wanting to interrupt, Dumbledore allowed the other professor to go on speaking rather than explain what had actually happened with the doll. He found it incredibly odd that the other professor continued to refer to the girl not by her real name, but by the one that had been made up by the family of muggles who had briefly taken her in.

"Repairing it would have been easy enough, but Tom insisted on bringing it to Dippet. Dippet did not want you 'leaving any mementos for the girl' and got rid of it. Kitten was not at _all _pleased. I tell you that little girl has got quite the temper. She sent Tom packing and refused to speak to him for the rest of the night.

Now that Kitten has a pet of her own, she is transferring some of her attachment to Tom towards the puffskein instead. Though I'm sure they will patch things up in the next day or two, I think a little separation will be good for them."

Dumbledore felt more than a touch of anger and frustration to learn the present he had devoted so much time to picking out had been taken away from Minerva. He added to that further disappointment as Kettleburn continued.

"Sorry to let you down, but you dismissed your class early for nothing." Kettleburn nodded in the direction of the other door. "Kitten is still asleep."

Looking through the other doorway for the first time, Dumbledore could see what Kettleburn said was true. The girl was indeed still sleeping. Even in her slumber, her arms were wrapped lovingly around the puffskein from the day before. Though had it been any other creature, it would have been too tightly, the puffskein didn't seem to mind. Puffskeins were fond of being handled roughly and he could hear a happy hum emanating from the creature.

It was almost ten and the girl was still sleeping? "She seemed to be doing very well yesterday. Is she feeling poorly again?"

Kettleburn shrugged awkwardly in answering. "Oh, you know, she has good spots and bad spots."

Something about Dumbledore's concerned expression must have softened Kettleburn's resolve. Reluctantly he made an admission. "She stayed up half the night trying to make more snots for the puffskein." Kettleburn shook his head, amused. "Don't ask."

Kettleburn paused a moment. To Dumbledore he seemed to be internally debating some point. At last he came to a decision and again spoke.

"Dippet said he will be stopping by to see the girl some time later this morning. Why don't you try to stop back by after lunch? You can say a quick hello then. I'm actually glad you stopped by now. I could use your help with something."

Maybe he had been spending too much time around Dippet. Briefly, Dumbledore wondered if this was to be quid pro quo.

"I stopped giving Kitten the mandrake potion. I…I don't think it's good for her."

Dumbledore nodded his understanding. He too had found the girl's lethargic reaction to the potion troubling. Still, there were other worries that had to be balanced. As Kettleburn kept talking, they were addressed.

"I've spoken to her about not transforming, and so far, she hasn't. But she doesn't always listen well and that auror, Moody, has been sniffing around like a niffler lately. I know you are friends with him, I was hoping you could help in getting him to back off, at least a little."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

###########################################

Kevric Kettleburn was surprised to see Tom wander in shortly before lunch. He would have thought the boy capable of holding out at least a little longer.

"Hi Kitten."

By Kitten's glare, it was clear she wasn't ready to forgive and forget. After a moment she returned her attentions to the puffskein.

When Tom sat on the bed next to her, Kitten turned to face away from him. Tom sighed. His exasperated command got her to face him again.

"Stop being angry with me!"

Listening from desk in his adjoining office, not for the first time Kevric wondered about the level of Tom's emotional maturity. Did he really think it was possible to command other people's emotions?

Kitten eyed Tom, assessing him before offering him a way to get back into her good graces. "Give my puffskein your bogies."

Tom looked disgusted by the notion. "That thing is disgusting! I can't believe you like it!"

That was not the response Kitten was looking for. Again turning away from him, she clutched the puffskein protectively. "If you cannot say nice things about my puffskein, you will need to leave."

Tom looked ready to pitch a fit, but kept silent. After a minute of silence, Kitten tried again in her slightly demanding tone. "Let him have your bogies."

Kevric expected Tom to again refuse, to yell, or to leave. Surprisingly, Tom came up with something of a compromise. Looking very fed-up, he blew his nose, wadded up the tissue and threw it at the puffskein.

Personally, Kevric thought the boy was missing out. Having your nose cleaned out by a puffskein might not be the most dignified looking thing, but it was a fun experience. Kitten seemed okay with the compromise. She petted the happily humming puffskein as it devoured the tissue.

Tom really didn't like the puffskein. He seemed to be trying to get Kitten away from it. "Come to lunch with me in the Great Hall."

His plan didn't work.

"Okay, but my puffskein needs to come with us."

Tom shook his head. "Puffskeins aren't allowed in the Great Hall."

"If my puffskein is not allowed than I do not want to go."

Tom sighed and transfigured Kitten's nightdress into robes. "Just this once."

As Kitten, clutching the puffskein possessively, scrambled out of the bed, Kettleburn rose from his desk to intercede. That auror had been poking around again earlier today and Kevric wasn't sure if he was still floating around somewhere. He really couldn't allow the auror to see Kitten out and about.

"Sorry Tom, but Kitten needs to stay here and rest."

Kitten disagreed before Tom had a chance to. "I feel okay."

Kevric shooed her back to the bed and untransfigured her robes. "I know, but let's play a game. Let's make believe you still aren't feeling well. Just for a few more days."

Kitten looked a little confused and disappointed. Kevric conjured an assortment of lunch items from the kitchens and went on talking. "You can still have lunch with Tom, but you need to stay here to do it."

Still looking confused at what was going on and looking more disappointed given the foods he had conjured, Kitten climbed back into bed. Unlike Dippet, Kevric refused to let the girl eat just sugar. From the first he had made it clear that she couldn't just fill up on deserts, she had to eat a normal diet. Well, almost normal; he had eventually given up on trying to get her to eat vegetation of any kind.

And so as he headed back to his desk, Kevric was quite surprised to hear Kitten actually ask Tom for one of his vegetables.

"May I have your pickle?"

Tom smiled and immediately held out the pickle.

Maybe it was just Dumbledore's warnings making him suspicious, but more and more Tom's behavior was beginning to make him uneasy. At the moment it wasn't so much what Tom did, but his words to Kitten as he did it.

"You know I would give you anything that you want. If it is something that I don't have, I will get it for you."

Tom wasn't being entirely truthful anyway. Kitten immediately found a request Tom would not fill.

"I want my box back."

Tom frowned. "I don't want you accepting anymore presents from Dumbledore. Besides, it was broken."

Still holding the uneaten pickle, now Kitten was frowning too. "I liked it the way it was. I liked the noise it made."

"If you want a doll, I'll get you a one."

"I do not want a doll. I do not like dolls and dolls do not like me."

Kevric found that last statement odd and from the look of it, Tom did too. He seemed to be about to question her on it, but became distracted when Kitten, still scowling at him, handed the pickle to the puffskein.

Tom looked incensed. "I thought you wanted the pickle?"

Kitten readily nodded. "I did. I wanted it so I could give it to my puffskein."

Tom didn't seem to find that an acceptable response. "You took my pickle just to give it to that silly puffskein?"

Kitten didn't seem to see what the problem was. She shrugged. "My puffskein wanted it."

More and more it looked like Tom was going to be finding the puffskein to be a serious competitor in the contest for Kitten's affections.

###########################################

This time before peering into Kettleburn's office, Albus Dumbledore had the foresight to turn himself invisible. Already today he had encountered the Headmaster and though Dippet had been too busy at the time to formally and properly berate him, Dippet had scheduled a meeting in his office later for just that purpose. To be again found trying to see Miss Grindelwald would no doubt add to Dippet's fury, but Dumbledore was no longer concerning himself with following Dippet's orders. At least on this particular matter. However, that was no reason to be careless and to needlessly get Professor Kettleburn into trouble as well.

Seeing that Kettleburn was the only occupant of the office, Dumbledore appeared with a slight popping noise.

Kettleburn looked up from the essays he was correcting, startled. "Knowing you can do that is very unsettling. Did someone in your family mate with a Demiguise?" Kettleburn looked apologetic as he went on. "Something came up and Dippet changed his plans. He'll be here in ten minutes for his visit with Kitten so I can only give you five minutes before you'll need to leave."

That was very disappointing. Five minutes wasn't long, but Dumbledore had no desire to argue with his fellow professor. Kettleburn was not yet tenured at Hogwarts and Dumbledore was well aware that the young professor was putting himself at risk by disregarding Dippet's orders.

Dumbledore simply nodded his appreciation. As he knocked and pushed open the door to Minerva's bedchamber, he pulled out his watch to mark the time.

He offered her his warmest smile. "Hello again."

She momentarily took her concentration off of the puffskein in her lap to look up at him. "Hi."

"How are you feeling today?"

She shrugged noncommittally in response. She looked very uncertain. Surely it was not at the question, so it must be at him. It would appear yesterday was yesterday and today was a new day. He had gotten an opening greeting, so if most of his progress with her yesterday had been forgotten, at least it had not all been lost. Looking down at his watch he calculated that already one of his minutes had elapsed.

Looking back up at Minerva he saw her gaze too had gone to his watch. Smiling, he held it out towards her by the chain so that she might get a better look at it. "Yes, it is most interesting, isn't it? It has been in my family for generations."

She looked up from the watch to meet his eyes before extending her hand to the watch. He released the chain as she took the watch part into her hand. As she brought it closer and examined the twelve hands and the little planets, he again spoke.

"It is really quite fascinating. It looks very complex, but in actuality it is very easy to understand. You see…" He trailed off in his explanation as having apparently finished examining the watch, Minerva snapped it shut and placed it in the pocket of her dressing gown. "What are you doing?"

She smiled at him. "It is a pocket watch, is it not?"

Suddenly Dumbledore wasn't feeling quite so sure about what was going on. Kettleburn chose that moment to stick his head in. "I'm sorry, Dumbledore, but you really need to go."

Dumbledore nodded to the other professor, "Just another moment." He turned his attentions back to the girl. "May I have the watch back, please?"

Minerva looked at him in a way that in someone older he might have called almost appraising. She seemed to sincerely consider his request before responding. "No. No, I do not think so. It is mine now. You gave it to me."

It was true, he had handed it to her. But his intention had only been to let her look at it, not to keep it. "I'm sorry, but I didn't really _mean_ to give it to you. I would like it back now."

This wasn't going well at all. Now she looked almost offended. Her lips were twitching. "No, I do not think so. You gave it to me so it is mine now. I have grown rather fond of it and I am going to keep it."

Dumbledore looked to his colleague for help. Kettleburn was coughing and faced in the other direction, no doubt checking the other door, concerned about Dippet's impending arrival. He would have to come back later or tomorrow and reason with the girl.

As he headed out the door she called out to him. "Thank you for the watch!"

As he exited the office he thought he heard laughter, but surely it was coming from the other direction. Surely.

##############################################

Kevric Kettleburn smiled and shook his head, amazed and amused at what he had just seen. The great Albus Dumbledore, Wizengamot member and Order of Merlin, First class, had just been hustled out of a family heirloom by a child of no more than eight.

Kevric paused in the doorway a moment, watching Kitten. Now that Dumbledore was gone, the watch had come back out and she was examining it intently. Walking into the room, he held out his hand. "Alright, hand it over."

Kitten gripped the watch tightly. "It is mine now. He gave it to me."

"No, he really didn't. And it's not nice to lie."

Kevric blushed at the girl's retort. "But it _is_ okay to _pretend_ to be sick and collect presents?"

It took him a moment to realize she was genuinely confused. As Kevric moved to sit next to her on the bed, Kitten quickly returned the watch to the shelter of her pocket and gathered the puffskein into the safety of her arms.

"Well, no, but sometimes the answers aren't that cut and dry. Sometimes people have very good reasons for not telling the whole truth or for pretending."

Kitten didn't look convinced.

"It's complicated, but that's not what we're talking about right now. That watch has been in Professor Dumbledore's family for a long time. It is important to him and he wants it back. You and I both know he didn't really mean to give it to you."

Kitten still didn't look at all convinced. "Maybe _you_ think that, but I do not. If it was important to him, he would not have been trying to give it away."

Kevric was about to interrupt, to point out Dumbledore hadn't really been trying to give the watch away, but Kitten went on speaking solemnly.

"He did not _really _want it anymore. If you _really_ love something, you do not offer it to someone else."

She looked so earnest. Kevric stared at her for a moment before coming to a few decisions, one of which was to let Dumbledore worry about getting his own watch back.

"Make sure Tom and Headmaster Dippet don't catch sight of that watch."

He shook his head, but couldn't help but smile at the way her eyes lit up now that she was getting her way. Everyone always giving in to her was such a very, very bad idea.

"And you _are_ going to class tomorrow."

###########################################

Armando Dippet sighed as this time the blasted puffskein snatched a red checker right out of his hand. Had he been allowed to make his move, he could have done a double hop and captured two of the girl's pieces. As it was now, he hadn't any pieces left.

"Why doesn't he ever eat yours?"

The girl petted the happily humming puffskein while responding. In the beginning, Dippet had been horrified to learn Master Kettleburn had given the girl a puffskein as a pet. He had angrily inquired if he had given it to her on a dinner plate or just with a fork stuck in it. Quite honestly, he was amazed the puffskein had lasted a day given the way the girl regarded Mr. Keys.

But perhaps it was time to admit Master Kettleburn was correct. While the girl knew cats readily consumed frogs and mice, the puffskein would remain safe so long as the knowledge that they also ate puffskeins was kept from her. Certainly the girl seemed rather involved with it.

"I think he only likes the red ones."

"I see," Dippet replied dryly.

Observing the girl at long last take a sip of the milk he had conjured, Dippet felt no small amount of satisfaction. He had outwitted her.

Today before coming to her chamber, he had gone to the kitchens. There he had, with the help of the elves, prepared her beverage of milk and mandrake potion. Once in her chambers, he had conjured the glass and presented it to her immediately, with no apparent opportunity to have tampered with it.

Still holding the glass, the girl stared at him. "It needs sugar."

Dippet frowned. "No, it doesn't."

Still staring at him, the girl repeated herself. "I _really_ think it does."

Dippet knew if he didn't give in she would just continue harping on it. He sighed and conjured a dish of sugar. He shook his head watching her mix the contents of the two containers together. She took another sip and smiled. Dippet smiled as well, pleased with his deception.

With a newfound confidence, he implemented another idea. Conjuring replacements for the not precisely missing red checkers, he tilted the board. "Let us change sides. You play red this time."

Not entirely surprising, the puffskein's tastes switched sides as well. The girl shrugged impishly in response to his questioning glance and went on patting the puffskein proudly.

Dippet was more than ready to leave by the time Mr. Riddle arrived. Returning to his office, he took pride in having at least achieved his primary objective of getting the girl to drink the mandrake potion.

It was several hours later that he discovered even in that he had been wrong. After sitting down to dinner, while taking a drink from his ornate goblet, he discovered the girl's mandrake potion waiting for him.

After dinner Armando Dippet had summoned Master Dumbledore to his office with the intention of in no uncertain terms making clear his position regarding association with the Grindelwald girl. As the girl's Head of House, Master Binns had also been requested to attend. Binns, always eager to listen in on one of the other faculty members being censured had readily agreed. Dippet had finished mentally collecting his thoughts and was about to begin, when he was interrupted.

Standing, Dippet turned to look, along with everyone else, as Mephistopheles Malfoy entered his office. It wasn't that the man entering was important that caused everyone to rise to attention, though he did sit on the school Board of Governors. It was the loud banging noise as Malfoy used his wand to open the door with such force that it hit the stone wall on the other side. The action and resulting noise were entirely deliberate. It was the only way that Mephistopheles Malfoy could command the attention of a group. Certainly, the people present had no respect for the man.

"Where is she?"

No one had any doubt as to whom Governor Malfoy was referring. Unlike his late brother, the briefly reigning Minister of Magic, Mephistopheles Malfoy had no subtlety. No subtlety at all.

"Hello Governor Malfoy. You know Masters Dumbledore and Binns. We were just sitting down to tea. Won't you join us?"

"Armando, surely you people aren't foolish enough to be drinking tea with that girl running around? Where is she? I wish to see her."

Ignoring the presumption of using his first name uninvited, Armando attempted to continue being civil. "Governor Malfoy, I don't believe I have yet had an opportunity to personally extend to you my condolences on the loss of your wife."

He knew the appraising look Malfoy turned on him was an attempt to detect sarcasm or ridicule. Not yet able to discern any clear sign of it, Malfoy nodded his head slightly in acceptance.

"Yes, another tragic misfortune for my family. Perhaps it was for the best though. My wife was rather despondent since our son's death."

Dippet nodded his head politely, leaving unsaid his true thoughts. Dumbledore was not so willing.

"Tell me, Mephistopheles, if the subject does not pain you _too _much, how _exactly_ did this one die?"

Malfoy didn't flinch or even blink before responding. In fact, he wore an almost smile. "This son or this wife?"

Dippet saw Master Dumbledore bristle at the other man's callousness. Governor Malfoy paused only long enough to allow for that reaction before explaining.

"My son fell down one of the staircases at our estate. Broke his neck in the fall. Died instantly. A pity really. And the timing! Do you know he would have been getting his letter and coming here in only a few months?"

Dippet knew for a fact that this was not the truth as the Book in his office had held no Malfoy name in over three decades. However, he held his tongue as Governor Malfoy went on.

"My wife, she didn't take the news well. But then really, do they ever? She blamed herself." Governor Malfoy's eyes traveled over the assembled men. His eyes twinkled as if having a secret he longed to share. "May I tell you something in confidence? I blamed her a little too."

Malfoy's lips twitched as he seemed to fondly reminisce. "There is a small uncovered walkway on the third floor. It connects the balconies outside our separate rooms. She was there one night and, I can only assume, the guilt was too much. The house elves didn't find her on the ground below until the next morning."

It was Master Binns who snorted, breaching the appearance of sincerity. "You might want to put an enchantment on the staircase and enclose the walkway. Those who refuse to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. What with similar _accidents _happening to your first two sons and wives, one would be inclined to think you were making it happen on purpose."

Rather than seem insulted, Governor Malfoy gave a smile to the History of Magic Master that clearly showed his teeth. "Ah, the gift of hindsight."

Malfoy was no longer to be distracted from his original goal. "Now tell me, where are you keeping the girl?"

"My apologies, Governor Malfoy, for your having traveled here needlessly, particularly in your time of grief. The girl will not be granting audiences tonight. Perhaps, next time you might send an owl in advance."

Governor Malfoy's teeth were still bared as he responded. "_Surely_, you will make an exception in my case."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Governor. The girl has been ill recently. She is resting right now and cannot be disturbed."

Governor Malfoy's eyes again held a glint. "Yes, I had heard something about that. Still, I had hoped to meet her today." With a false sigh of disappointment, Malfoy went on. "No matter, I will simply see her tomorrow after I file my petition with the Ministry."

By the slight tightening of Dumbledore's face, Dippet could tell he was not the only one alarmed by the Governor's words. Dumbledore inquired, "Petition?"

Malfoy drew out his next few words, clearly enjoying the suspense the others in the room were being kept in.

"Yes, you see now that I have become aware of the girl's existence, I am repetitioning regarding the wergild."

The sense of dread in Master Dumbledore's voice matched well with what Dippet was feeling. "The wergild? I was under the understanding you had already been given one of Grindelwald's house elves, Dibby, as payment of the wergild."

Governor Malfoy appeared to be attempting to give the impression of being highly insulted. "Surely you do not think my brother's life had the same worth as some lowly house elf? I will not be bought off so easily. I am demanding a life of equal value."

Clearly even the experiences with Minister Augustus had not opened Dumbledore's mind up to the absolute degradation of some people.

"You want to kill the girl because of something her father did? Actions she had no control over, no part in?"

Governor Malfoy's eyes still held too much of their malicious sparkle for such a simple answer. Again his words came out slowly, prolonging the other man's sense of foreboding.

"Not kill her. You are too simple minded, Dumbledore. There are other ways to fulfill the wergild. I want my family's loss not avenged, but replaced."

Dumbledore's voice now held a weary suspicion, a disbelief. "You want to take Grindelwald's daughter in place of the debt for your brother's life? You want to adopt the girl?"

The glint was still alive in Governor Malfoy's eyes. "No, Dumbledore. Being as there is only one other way to fulfill the wergild, I will allow you one more guess."

Now everyone in the room, with the exception of the Governor, held the same sickened look. The wergild was an ancient way to prevent needless revenge killings amongst wizards.

If the slain witch or wizard's family so chose, they could decline the monetary option. In its place were three other options. There was of course the most obvious choice - the killing of the murderer or a close relation of the murderer in revenge.

The other two options were more complex. As Wizarding life was so precious and valuable, not only in sentimental terms, but in their potential in this world of dwindling magic, the needless slaying of one was highly discouraged. Instead, in earlier times, it had been an accepted practice to take a member of the offender's family, generally a child, in payment. The one taken would then be considered dead to their original family. As when a child was adopted, all ties, loyalties, and responsibilities to the family of origin would end. They would be accepted into their new family with full status and be expected to be fully devoted to their new family. All the Wizarding World would be expected to treat the one taken as if they had been born and always were a member of their new family.

Of course, this was easily said, but harder to accomplish. Old loyalties and prejudices were hard to overcome. Unless the child was extremely young it was difficult to fully ingrain them into their new family. This led to the third option, the one Mephistopheles Malfoy wished to exercise.

The temporary transfer of a breedable female until a new life had been conceived and safely delivered. The woman would then be returned, unharmed, while the infant remained behind.

Dumbledore's expression and tone were incredulous. "You want the girl to produce you an heir?"

"Very good, Dumbledore. Though, I must say, I don't quite understand why everyone seems to think you are so ingenious and quick thinking. Exactly how many tries did it take you to figure that out?"

Dumbledore was clearly revolted. "You cannot be serious! The girl is eight years old. She is only a child. Surely you-"

The Governor interrupted Dumbledore indignantly. "What kind of a man do you take me for?"

Himself still revolted and apprehensive, Dippet watched as Dumbledore's entire person seemed to relax, welcoming the other man's indignity and outrage as a sure sign he had been wrong about the depths of the other man's depravity. He was once again mistaken.

"I am not a fool, Dumbledore! I know she is too young. It could cause irreparable damage at too young of an age. I assure you, though I am not usually a patient man, I am aware of the benefits and the occasional necessity for delayed gratification.

After all, while one child would suffice for the wergild I would not be opposed to siring more. Once the first child is born, if she should so desire, I could be won over to allowing her to remain as a consort with access to the child, supervised of course."

Dippet found the twinkle in Malfoy's eyes while speaking his next words especially foul. "You know, I never was one to see a mother and child separated for long."

The plans for the girl that Malfoy related were so vile as to momentarily silence those assembled. After a brief pause, Governor Malfoy again appealed to Dippet.

"I am making my petition for custody of the girl at this time. Minister Augustus has assured me he sees no _real_ challenge to my claim. After your little debacle, he seems disinclined to entertain any more of your requests and eager to dispose of the matter quickly. However, I have no set plans for her for the next few years besides allowing her time to mature. While I am certain I could find a pleasing use for her that would result in no _lasting_ damage, I might also be persuaded to indulge the girl and allow her to remain here.

Now again I ask you Headmaster Dippet, would it be possible to have an audience with the girl, _tonight_?"

Dippet closed his eyes in disgust. It would appear Mephistopheles Malfoy had finally found a way to restore his family's failing bloodline. With three sons, by three different wives, all born squibs, there could be little doubt as to where the fault lie. No doubt the words Malfoy spoke regarding Minister Augustus would prove true. Governor Malfoy's claim through the wergild had some validity to it and after his rather smug dismissal of the Minister the other day, the man would be keen to find a way to prove Dippet wrong. That the girl would be caused to suffer as well would be seen by the Minister as either a matter of no concern to him or, more likely, an additional benefit.

Though he knew that if granted custody Governor Malfoy would under no circumstances allow the girl to remain, lacking any counter ideas at the moment, Dippet acquiesced. "Miss Grindelwald is currently staying in Master Kettleburn's office. I can escort you there myself."

Though it was entirely unnecessary for all three of them to escort the Governor to the Care of Magical Creature Master's office, Binns and Dumbledore nonetheless made the journey with them.

Upon their entering Kettleburn's office, the young Master looked up surprised. "Headmaster, what's going on?"

Governor Malfoy could clearly see the girl was not in the room. His face was briefly marred by a look of anger before his eyes settled on the other closed door in the room. Dippet nodded in response to Malfoy's glance, but Kettleburn stepped in the way to intercede.

"You can't go in there. Kitten is sleeping."

Malfoy gave the young Master a disdainful look. "I assure you, I have no intention of disturbing her." Kettleburn gave up on his attempts to block the other man's progress only after a look to Dippet. Malfoy brushed past him and opened the door.

Miss Grindelwald was indeed asleep, curled up with that awful puffskein held close. Malfoy approached the sleeping child's bed with a look that Dippet found most disturbing to be seen directed at a child. Almost reverentially Malfoy spoke. "Dark hair, gray eyes, pale skin….the last of the true purebloods and yet capable of creating more. Have you ever seen _anything_ more lovely?"

Governor Malfoy had never been a man of his word. Despite his earlier assurance not to disturb the girl, Malfoy attempted to wake her. Kettleburn attempted to ward him off. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Malfoy did not heed the warning in Master Kettleburn's words or tone. Kitten foggily opened her eyes to regard the strange man in her temporary quarters. The smile with which Malfoy rewarded the girl did nothing to disarm Dippet's fears, but the girl did not seem particularly troubled by it.

"Hello, my dear. I am so relieved to see you are feeling better."

Miss Grindelwald fixed him with a dark look for awakening her, but suddenly brightened considerably. She glanced at the stranger's hands before asking excitedly, "Where is my present?"

Governor Malfoy looked if anything amused or pleased at the question. He chuckled before responding. "I haven't a present for you now, my dear, but soon you will be coming to live with me. Then I will have many wonderful presents for you."

The girl was not one to be put off so easily. She frowned. "What did you bring me today?"

A rather dark look again crossed her face as Governor Malfoy ignored the question. Now that it was clear he had not awoken her to give her a present she was no longer at all pleased at the interruption. "It is _not_ wake up time yet. Wake up time is when the big hand is on the six and the little hand is on the eight and _not_ a moment before."

"You are so very lovely."

As the Governor reached out to touch the girl's face, Kettleburn again tried to warn him off. "I _really_ wouldn't do that."

Malfoy paid no more heed to that warning than he had the other. "So _very_ lovely." As two of his fingers brushed across the girl's cheek and began to caress towards her lips, the girl gave a demonstration of her disapproval of him.

Rather than try to immediately pull his fingers away from her mouth as everyone she had previously bitten had done, Governor Malfoy forcefully pushed his fingers further into her mouth in an effort to make her give in. "We do not bite!"

Not easily intimidated either, Miss Grindelwald bit down harder rather than release. A small amount of Malfoy's blood could be seen to be coming out of the girl's mouth as the member of the School Board of Governors twisted his fingers within her mouth. Miss Grindelwald reached up and began to rake her fingernails down his face, concentrating on the weakest point, his eyes. Malfoy had to extract his fingers to use both hands in an attempt to try to grab hold of the girl's small wrists as she persisted in trying to gouge out his eyes. Out with his fingers came one of the girl's teeth which Malfoy had apparently taken hold of.

It wasn't that the four other men in the room stood by watching and doing nothing, though actually that was what open mouthed Master Binns did. It was simply that it all happened so quickly. As soon as they could find their wits, Dumbledore and Kettleburn quickly moved to try to pull Malfoy off of the girl and out of the room.

The tooth that Malfoy had extracted from the girl's mouth had been released from Malfoy's fingers as he had gripped the girl's second wrist. It had not the chance to land as the puffskein's tongue darted out. As soon as the puffskein's tongue brought the tooth into its mouth, two ranks of teeth emerged.

Despite everything else going on, the girl gave a delighted cry. "My puffskein's teeth came in!"

Malfoy finally gave up struggling with the girl and the two young Masters as the puffskein sank its jagged teeth into one of the arms grasping the girl. Minus a mouthful of his flesh, Governor Malfoy was forcefully ejected from the girl's chamber.

Straightening his robes, the Governor did seem somewhat put out by the experience, but his enthusiasm for the girl had not been diminished. "You can keep that monstrosity she calls a puffskein, but once I have her declawed and the rest of those teeth taken out, I am _really_ going to enjoy breaking that one!"

_tbc_

A/N I've warned a few times now that a particular narrator's perspective and expectations can influence what they choose to see or how they interpret what they do see. If some of Moody's characterizations of Kitten in the last segment of chapter 41seemed a bit off to the reader, it might be worth comparing how others interpreted the same body language. I've tried to be fairly consistent in other character's interpretations of things like the habit of tilting her head in the chapters before and particularly in the segment immediately before Moody's. This isn't to say that all of Moody's interpretations were incorrect, but "her eyes glinted maliciously" is a rather simple misstep from say, 'her eyes sparkled excitedly'. Similarly, "her next words came out slow and demanding" might be coming out slowly due to confusion.

Redwoman There will be skipping back and forth from the present (Harry's time) to the past. The shifts to the past will happen in response to certain comments overheard or events seen by Harry in his time. Scenes from the past will be arranged in chronological order in regards to each other, with two exceptions that I will explain in the a/n preceding those parts. This section of flashbacks is only meant to answer the one question Harry actually posed to Dumbledore and is only a small, but very important part of the overall story.

Once this particular question of Harry's is resolved, he will get to run loose for a while collecting more questions. Then you get more flashbacks to answer those. Then more Harry. Then flashbacks, etc, etc.


	43. Chapter 43

_Chapter 43_

A/N A thousand and one thank you's to Maria for taking the time to beta this.

**** time shift

#### change in narrator

Normally Robert Binns would have made a big fuss and insisted on Miss Grindelwald sharing the bacon supply. He was very good at making big fusses. They were of great use in getting his way. Today however, he did not even attempt it.

Oh, it wasn't because it was the girl's first day back after her illness and he was feeling magnanimous. It was because today he was afraid to even look at the platter of bacon. Every time he did, the girl's puffskein would cease its happy humming, turn, and gnash its many, many teeth at him.

So for today he had decided to forgo his daily bacon ration and instead busied himself looking around the Great Hall at anything other than the girl, her puffskein, or the bacon supply.

He noticed most of the other children at the table had chosen to space themselves a healthy distance from the girl and her puffskein. How he envied them!

Mr. Riddle remained next to the girl, but he too seemed displeased. Perhaps Riddle too wished for some of the bacon and that was why he was glaring at the puffskein as the girl continued, piece by piece, feeding the entire platter of bacon to it. She didn't even keep any for herself.

Looking to the Head Table, he could see the usual seats of Dippet and Dumbledore were empty.

Last night as soon as Governor Malfoy had been evicted from her room, Miss Grindelwald had again declared, 'It is not wake up time' and flopped back down onto the bed with her puffskein. The others present had not been so undaunted.

The four men had returned to the Headmaster's office to discuss how best to deal with this new turn of events. Dippet was confident that Malfoy was correct, Minister Augustus would be eager to turn over custody of the girl to him. Malfoy's wergild claim was valid and an equally valid claim would be necessary to prevent the Minister from doing just that.

Dumbledore and Dippet had come up with two very different solutions, both of which Binns knew had absolutely no hope of working.

Dumbledore's plan was to convince the family of one of Grindelwald's other victims to petition to exercise the right to adopt the girl. One of the many flaws with that plan was that the wergild was based on levels of society. A claim by a member of the family of a former Minister of Magic would need to be countered by the family of someone of equal ranking. That would have to be that of another former Minister of Magic. Since Grindelwald had murdered no less than six Ministers of Magic, that idea didn't have to immediately be ruled out. It had some potential, right up until the point where it became clear that Dumbledore was suggesting trying to convince one of those families to do something to help the daughter of the man who murdered their family member. That was quite a shortcoming to get someone to overlook.

Dumbledore had known the Bones family for many years. He seemed to sincerely believe that they could be capable of such a thing. In response, Dippet had disparaged Dumbledore, calling him entirely too naïve if he really thought the Bones family would have any interest in the girl.

Still, Dippet's idea hadn't been much better. Since the wergild was paid by rank in society and it didn't seem possible to find anyone of equal rank to challenge the Malfoy's claim, Dippet's plan was to somehow find a relation of Artemisia's to petition. Since Artemisia was Grindelwald's first victim, Dippet wished to suggest that the girl be disposed of in chronological order. The problem with that was how exactly did he plan to go about finding a Themis descendant? Naturally Miss Grindelwald herself didn't count and it wasn't as if anyone else was foolish enough to admit to being one. Still, for some reason Dippet seemed confident he could make it work.

After further unproductive discussion, Dippet had moved on to his usual solution to everything, retiring for the evening. This morning Dumbledore and Dippet were both attempting to put to work their feeble plans.

All were to meet again in the afternoon to discuss their progress, but it was all rather pointless really. Neither of their plans would work. The others just weren't looking at the problem the right way. Binns knew a solution that would work. There was a claim that could be made upon the girl that would supercede all others. Yes, there was a way to solve the whole problem and he knew it, but he certainly wasn't going to tell it to anyone.

####################################

Armando Dippet straightened after attaching the letter to the owl's leg. Mr. Loki had not been back to the castle since that first day. Perhaps he was not aware of the seriousness of the current situation. While it was quite unfortunate that things had progressed in this way, Dippet really had no choice in the matter. He was serving Mr. Loki notice that he was going to need to take responsibility for the girl.

Dippet frowned as the owl carrying the letter addressed to Mr. Loki remained on its perch in the owlry. After a moment he realized his error. Mr. Loki had preferred to be addressed simply as Loki. With his wand he removed the title, leaving just the one word.

Still the owl made no attempt to depart.

His unease growing, Dippet scrawled out a summons for the other auror, Mr. Moody. Not surprisingly, rather than exit through the unpaned window openings in the stone walls, the owl to whom he attached the summons exited through the door. Mr. Moody was once again prowling the halls of Hogwarts and quickly arrived in the owlery.

"Mr. Moody, I wish to contact that other auror but I cannot seem to correctly remember his name. I had thought it to be Loki or Mr. Loki."

Moody shook his head. "Oh, you won't find him. The day Dumbledore found the girl, as soon as he got back to the Ministry he resigned. I think that girl spooked the hell out of him. He moved to…well, I don't know to where, but no one has seen him since."

Dippet frowned. He suspected it was not so much the girl as his own questioning that had unsettled the other man.

Dippet had one other idea on how to potentially resolve the situation, but he was loathe to use it. As unlikely as he believed the possibility to be, he sincerely hoped Master Dumbledore was encountering better luck than he had.

######################################

Despite his confidence last night while making the suggestion to Dippet, Albus Dumbledore began to feel less sure of himself as the family elf escorted him through the house still draped in mourning almost a year after Minister Bones' death. Before passing into the drawing room where Mrs. Bones was awaiting him, he was certain he saw the shadows at the top of the stairs move.

Dumbledore had known Susan Bones for many years and she had always been a warm and inviting person. Yet he thought he detected more than a slight coldness to the way she stood to greet him today. It became very clear when she addressed him.

"Professor Dumbledore."

Previously they had been on a first name basis for years. Attempting to ignore the slight, he greeted her as he normally would have. After she offered him a seat, the same elf from earlier entered with a tray of coffee. Not normally a coffee person, Dumbledore stopped himself from requesting tea just in time to avoid what, given the circumstances, would have been a moment of extreme awkwardness.

After accepting a cup, he tried to open with a few pleasant inquiries about the children, but Susan would not have it.

"Professor Dumbledore, what is it that you wished to speak to me about? In your letter you said it was a matter of great importance and delicacy. If it is so important, let us get to it."

Growing more and more uneasy about his mission, Dumbledore nonetheless persisted. "When Grindelwald was sent to Azkaban, his estate was divided up and distributed out to pay the wergild-"

Very curtly Susan interrupted, "We were offered, but we took nothing. My family wants no reminders of that man."

Dumbledore nodded. That the Bones family had taken nothing for the wergild was actually one of the reasons he had been so hopeful when he arrived. Having never received even a partial payment, the Bones would have a greater claim to the girl than Malfoy, who had taken the first pick of the elves and various other items in payment. Mrs. Bones' last statement extinguished even more of his hope.

"I am aware of that. Since then it has become known that Grindelwald had a child, a daughter."

"We may not all be as learned as you, Professor Dumbledore, but I can read a newspaper."

He probably should have left right then, made his excuses and departed. Should have, but he didn't.

"Mephistopheles Malfoy is repetitioning the wergild. He wishes the child."

The Wizarding community was small and the most powerful and influential families might not all like each other, but they certainly knew each other. Susan knew the Malfoy family enough to be startled and suspicious. "Whatever for?"

Rather than answer in words, Dumbledore looked her in the eye and let her figure it out in the silence that spread between them.

Folding her arms and diverting her gaze to one of the windows, Mrs. Bones looked entirely uncomfortable with the situation he had put her in. When she spoke she didn't look at him. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I thought perhaps you and your family might consider taking in the girl."

Her answer was not what he had hoped for when he made his way here, but it was what he had more recently begun to expect. "You cannot be serious? You simply cannot be serious!"

Again he knew he should simply leave, but he thought if only he could get her to look beyond her own grief. Perhaps if he could just appeal to her as mother. "Susan, think if it were one of your children. If the positions had been reversed -"

Mrs. Bones was outraged. "How dare you! How dare you come into my home and even suggest such a thing. My husband was a pillar of this community. To compare him to that murdering degenerate! How dare you!"

"Susan, I know this has been a difficult time for you and your family, and I know it is a great deal to ask, but the child has not done anything. To make her responsible, to make her suffer for actions taken by her father-"

Absolutely livid, Mrs. Bones interrupted him. "-Everyone suffers, Professor Dumbledore. Everyone has problems, but that girl is not mine. If Grindelwald was such a gifted Seer, than he should have seen this coming."

As she again repeated herself, the anger was punctuated by a sob. "That girl is not my problem."

Despite her words, Dumbledore knew Susan Bones to be a good person. It was simply still too soon. Dippet had been correct, the wound was still entirely too fresh to realistically expect the Bones family to be of assistance.

"I apologize for coming. I will show myself out."

Leaving the drawing room he again saw the figure lurking in the shadows at the top of the stairs. He paused, giving Amelia a moment to decide if she wanted to speak to him or just continue lurking. She made her way partially down before speaking in a voice laced with accusation.

"You lied to me."

It pained him to be the cause of such anger. He wanted to make her understand the reasoning behind what he had done, that there were not only absolute rights and absolute wrongs, but also some things that weren't so easily labeled. In life, some things were difficult.

"It was not my secret to tell."

As he said those first words, seeing the look of betrayal in her eyes he realized he could go on in that way and try to explain, but it would hold no meaning to her. Amelia Bones already knew that life could be hard. While his words might be true, but they weren't the only truth and they weren't the truth she was looking for.

"Yes, I lied to you."

It was clear he had made the right decision. Amelia was surprised, shocked even at his frank admission. Her eyes were not entirely clear of that look of betrayal, but now for the greater part they looked to be filled with inquisitiveness.

"Amelia, do you remember when you were made Head Girl and you spoke to me? You were concerned, unnecessarily as we both know, that you were selected because of who your father was. You wished to be judged only upon your own accomplishments."

As he had spoken, Amelia, so like her mother in both looks and disposition, had frowned and averted her gaze from his. Still looking down, she did give a slight nod. Amelia was a very clever and perceptive girl. There was no need to elaborate, she was quite capable of considering what he had said and making her own parallels.

Reaching into one of the pockets of his robes, he produced a lemon drop and extended it towards her. Amelia shook her head, slightly amused or exasperated, he wasn't sure which, but she did take the proffered sweet. For the moment that was a start.

#########################################

Robert Binns watched Dippet look up almost hopefully as Dumbledore finally entered the office.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I still hold some hope that Mrs. Bones might come around, but it isn't likely. Dippet, I take it from your expression that your idea didn't fair any better?"

"No, it did not."

Dumbledore frowned. "There has to be someone else with at least some claim who is willing to take in the girl. We should spread the word."

Binns snorted, but said nothing.

Dippet shook his head. "Spread the word? I'm not sure that would be the best of ideas."

##########################################

Leaving the Headmaster's office and making his way to his classroom, Albus Dumbledore was pleasantly surprised to see Miss Grindelwald and her puffskein standing in a hallway, minus the presence of Tom Riddle. She smiled at Dumbledore as he made his way towards her. Unfortunately before he could get close enough to actually speak to her, Tom came out of the nearby boy's lavatory.

Riddle saw him and frowned. Without even a word to the girl he lifted her up and carried her off in the opposite direction. Over Tom's shoulder Minerva waved back at him. In the hand waving his watch could be clearly discerned. Looking from him to the watch and back, she smiled, her eyes practically dancing.

He smiled back at her until the surging crowd of students swallowed her from his sight. Turning to head in the direction of his classroom, he saw Moody holding what was unmistakably an invisibility cloak.

"Hello Moody."

"What the hell was that?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "It seems Mr. Riddle doesn't want Miss Grindelwald near me."

"I can get behind that idea. What was that in her hand? If I didn't know any better, I would say-"

Not wanting to get into a discussion about what was in the girl's hand, Dumbledore interrupted. "-Alastor, it isn't a coincidence that you just happened to be in this hallway with your invisibility cloak. You were following her just now, weren't you?"

"Of course I was. That's my job."

"Following around after an eight year old girl trying to catch her doing something wrong? Is that really what the Ministry has come to?"

Moody looked affronted. "I would hardly call her a normal eight year old. Merlin knows you have seen the things Grindelwald taught her to do."

Frowning, Dumbledore pulled Moody into an empty classroom and shut the door for privacy. "None of which we have seen any sign of her remembering, never mind repeating since she has been here. Besides what you saw her do once under the direct influence of Grindelwald, what have you ever seen her do?"

Moody's eyes narrowed. "She lied about me to that other professor."

"She lied? Call out the Azkaban guards! Assuming for the moment that it wasn't a misunderstanding, I'm certain no eight year old has ever told a lie before."

Moody flushed, appearing slightly ashamed so Dumbledore softened his tone. "Have you found any other evidence of wrong doing by her?"

"No, but just because I haven't found it doesn't mean its not there. I'm not a complete fool, Albus. I know there is something or somethings going on that Dippet is trying to keep hushed."

Now it was Dumbledore's turn to flush slightly. It was all getting to be too hard to manage. Trying to keep an eye on Tom Riddle, the girl's though unintentional, sometimes unmanageable behavior, keeping information from Moody so it wouldn't get back to the Ministry, and now this problem with Mephistopheles Malfoy.

Moody was a very persistent individual. Despite their best efforts, there was no question to it, if Moody was going to continue lurking around eventually he was going to start finding things out, like the fact that the girl was an animagus.

When Moody discovered it on his own he would go straight to the Minister. But maybe, just maybe there was a way to prevent that from happening. Maybe by showing some trust in Moody, he could get some of Moody's trust in return. Besides, Moody was going to find out on his own sooner or later.

After another moment of consideration Dumbledore came to his decision. "Yes, Alastor there is something that we have been deliberately keeping from you. I tell you this now, in confidence, because I believe you to be a reasonable and honorable man. As such, I am confident you will react in a reasonable and honorable manner."

Dumbledore paused a moment before letting the proverbial cat out of the bag. "It wasn't Grindelwald or his elves that transfigured the girl. She did it to herself, she is an animagus."

#########################################

Seeing the girl's knowing smile as she sipped the glass of 'milk' he offered her, Armando Dippet wondered exactly where he would discover the mandrake potion this time.

He gave a sigh of resignation as the noise of the puffskein chewing both the red and the black pieces brought his attention back to the checkers board.

The girl offered only a shrug before picking up a checker that had fallen to the floor and handing it to the puffskein.

When Mr. Riddle returned to collect the girl, Dippet gave firm instructions.

"Tomorrow when you come here, the puffskein is to remain in your rooms."

#########################################

Alastor Moody watched the Minister of Magic continue pacing around the office.

"You mean to tell me in all this time you haven't been able to find out anything?"

Moody considered the things he actually knew - not the things he thought or suspected, not the things he feared, just the things he actually knew.

The girl _had_ lied about him to the Magical Creatures professor. But was that because she was an evil half-demon creature or was that because little girls sometimes lie? There had been some truth in what she said. She had just manipulated it to suit her needs. Deserving of a sound spanking? Yes. Being subjugated to the horrors of the Dementors of Azkaban? No.

It wasn't as if when he had entered the girl's room he had done so with a clean slate. Shamed, he thought back to the dinner where he had shaken and almost struck the little girl. At the time he had been so sure she was responsible for the other child's choking. He had quickly learned how very wrong those suspicions were, but that experience probably hadn't left the girl with the best of impressions of him.

He had no proof of any other wrong doing by the girl. There was no new information to suggest she had any real involvement in the things Grindelwald had done. In the past few weeks there had been far too many accidents and incidents at the school for his liking, but the school Headmaster had assured him it was all coincidence and while Moody didn't believe him for a minute, he had no hard proof otherwise.

The only evidence against the girl that he did have had been supplied by Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore had confided in him that the girl was an animagus. Being an unregistered animagus was a serious crime, but a reasonable person wouldn't hold an eight year old to such a standard. Not that for the moment he would exactly call the Minister a reasonable person.

No, if he told the Minister, the Minister had already made it quite clear what his response would be. Moody had been to Azkaban and it was no place for a child. So, to what would soon become his if not everlasting, at least for the next forty years, regret Alastor Moody shook his head.

"No, sir. Nothing."

##########################################

Standing at the entrance to the Great Hall, Robert Binns was growing very perturbed. The Headmaster had already announced dinner. The food was on the tables! And here he was stuck listening to the great debate between Miss Grindelwald, her puffskein and Mr. Riddle.

"No, my Tom. My puffskein and I have decided we should all sit at the other table, the one with the cat pictures."

"They aren't cats, they are lions! And that stupid puff-"

Miss Grindelwald gave a warning glare. As unobservant as he was, even Binns hadn't failed to notice that one did not criticize the puffskein.

Mr. Riddle was beginning to sound just as frustrated as Binns felt. "-that puffskein doesn't get to decide anything. How many times do I have to explain this to you? We are Slytherins. We sit at the Slytherin table. Only Gryffindors sit at that table. What is so hard to understand about that?"

Miss Grindelwald looked back and forth between the Slytherin and Gryffindor mascots that were depicted and animated on the House banners hanging over their respective tables. Despite having this same argument at most every meal, Miss Grindelwald gave the impression of giving the matter serious contemplation. "Well, maybe we should look into becoming Gryffindors. How do we do that?"

Binns scowled at the girl and her puffskein for their insurgency.

Riddle frowned. "We don't want to be Gryffindors. Salazar Slytherin's house if by far the best. He was a great man who worked tirelessly for a very noble purpose. The students in Slytherin House are the elite. They are cunning and determined."

Binns nodded his approval as Mr. Riddle went on trying to explain to the girl the way the world was. "Godric Gryffindor was, and his band of worthless miscreants continue to be the foulest, most useless bunch of whining-"

Still staring at the snake that circled the length of its banner hissing and occasionally pretending to strike, the girl interrupted. "I like the cat pictures better."

Riddle looked back and forth between the lion on the banner and the puffskein cradled in Miss Grindelwald's arms. "You know, cats eat puffskeins."

That got the girl's full attention. The hand holding the puffskein seemed to spasm. "That is _not _true. Professor Kettleburn said-"

Tom shook his head. "Professor Kettleburn lied to you. You mustn't listen to him. He isn't to be trusted. Now do you really want to go sit by the cat pictures?"

The girl looked incredibly uncertain as she alternated looking at the lion, the serpent and the puffskein. Her gaze finally again settled on Mr. Riddle. When she began to speak, she started out hesitantly, but seemed to locate some Gryffindor qualities as she went on. Still even with her last words there was in her voice some doubt clearly discernable.

"Well, you said they are not cats, they are lions, and anyway I think Professor Kettleburn knows more about puffskeins than you do."

Binns sighed. The girl wasn't budging. Enough was enough, there was food on the table! "Dinner has already started. Just go sit down."

##########################################

At dinner Albus Dumbledore looked over to the Slytherin table. While he was pleased Minerva was well enough to again attend classes, Tom Riddle's presence around her had precluded any opportunity to speak to her and get his watch back.

Minerva happened to look up from her puffskein and noticed him looking in her direction. Her mouth widened into a grin. After a glance to Tom, who was occupied in conversation with another of his housemates, and then to Dippet, similarly involved, she opened her hand to reveal his watch. At least it was good to know nothing had happened to it. Dumbledore smiled back at her.

Kettleburn took the seat next to him. "You haven't gotten your watch back yet?"

Shifting the salad around on his plate, Dumbledore shook his head. "No, I haven't had an opportunity to. Actually, I was thinking of just letting her keep it. It certainly seems to be making her happy. I saw her in the halls this morning and she had it with her then, too. She had such a smile while playing with it."

Now Kettleburn was the one shaking his head. "I'll bet she did. You really don't have a clue what is going on, do you?"

At Dumbledore's startled look Kettleburn continued. "She hustled you out of your watch and now every time she sees you, she shows it to you. Albus, she is taunting you."

"Kevric! She is a child. She isn't some manipulative -"

"Yes, she _is_ a child and like all children, she _is _manipulative. Albus, when you were little did you have one parent that was more lenient than the other? More likely to allow you to do something or have something you wanted? Didn't you ever wait to make a request to the one and not the other?"

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed. "But that is a bit of a stretch from what you are saying."

"When she took the watch from you and refused to give it back, it was a test to see if you would make her give it back. You failed and every day you allow her to keep that watch you continue failing."

Kettleburn sighed. "Look, it's not just with you. She has been testing her limits with all of us. The problem is, no one is actually setting any limits for her. Tom Riddle is - I just don't know about Tom, but Dippet's and Binns' ideas about child rearing seem to be based on a theory of appeasement.

Now I know Dippet doesn't like children and he especially doesn't like Kitten, but to see some of the things he lets her get away with! Have you ever been in his office when Kitten was there? Rather than actually interact with her or engage her in conversation, he tries to do paperwork. When Kitten interrupts him with some ridiculous request for candy, looking for attention, he actually gives her the sugar hoping to keep her quiet rather than actually deal with the real problem of her wanting attention.

And Binns, my gods! Do you know I once heard Kitten tell him that he should give her candy or else she would scream? And he actually _gave_ it to her!

Albus, she may not understand all of what is going on, but she is still a very clever child. She notices patterns of behavior and adopts them or adapts to them.

Maybe you were too busy with your lettuce and missed the lovely little habit of lying that she picked up the day of the beetle incident. Hagrid suggested she didn't really know what was going on, Tom very _emphatically_ gave her the impression that it was unacceptable to not understand things, and now rather than ask questions when she doesn't understand something, she thinks its better to evade the topic or flat out lie." Kettleburn seemed to be almost blushing. "Not that I've helped much with that particular habit."

Dumbledore had noticed her reluctance to ask questions about those things she didn't know. He had to admit as Kettleburn kept talking, that most of what he said made sense.

"Look, we are great professors and individually maybe we would be good parents, but collectively we are the worst parents I have ever seen. Children her age need a very strong structure and routine. Some sort of discipline. None of which Kitten has seen any of since getting here. Believe me, take the watch back. It will be good for her."

##########################################

Now that Miss Grindelwald was well enough to return to her rooms, Robert Binns had a very serious problem. Miss Grindelwald had never actually slept in her rooms before. She had always slept in the house common room with Mr. Riddle.

Binns had been watching from the end of the hallway. As soon as Kettleburn had finished 'tucking in' the girl and left, Mr. Riddle had slipped into her rooms. Sleeping in the common room was one thing, it wasn't as if anything untoward would go on in the house common room. A girl and a boy alone in a bedroom was an entirely different matter. As much as he did not want to get involved, he certainly was not going to tolerate that.

Fortunately, as he approached the door he discovered he would not in fact have to get involved.

"Kitten, the Common room is empty now. We need to move there to go to sleep."

"It is okay, my puffskein will stay with me here. You can go sleep in your own room."

The puffskein was laying on the bed with the girl, but it's tongue was wandering the room, collecting and devouring all the toy animals Kettleburn had put in the room the day the girl was discovered. Mr. Riddle seemed rather perturbed watching it.

##########################################

Making his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast Albus Dumbledore was quite pleasantly surprised to see Amelia Bones levitating her trunk up one of the other staircases. She happened to turn and look in his direction. Before returning her attentions to her trunk she did, if only slightly and very briefly, return his smile.

It reaffirmed his belief that the Bones family were good people who were still going through some very bad times. Perhaps there was still hope that Susan Bones could be brought around.

##########################################

Professor Tofty hadn't really seen a point to asking Miss Grindelwald to follow along with the rest of the class, she already knew this material. Instead at the beginning of the double Charms lesson he had given her a box of crayons and some parchments to draw on. He recalled his children and grandchildren being kept happily occupied for hours with such simple supplies when they were her age.

As the end of the class neared it was actually Mr. Riddle who caused a disturbance, though slight.

While walking round and critiquing the other students' Charm efforts, Professor Tofty paused to compliment the girl's artwork. "What a lovely picture, dearie."

Mr. Riddle too leaned over to get a look at the picture. His voice started out at a normal tone and volume. Smiling and pointing to the picture, he questioned her. "Kitten, is that supposed to be you?"

Miss Grindelwald nodded and indicated a custard colored circle. "Yes, and that is my puffskein."

Mr. Riddle frowned, looking from the custard colored circle to the live puffskein happily gnawing on those crayons not presently in use. Returning his attention to the parchment, he again questioned her. "Where am I?"

Exchanging crayons with the puffskein, she distractedly answered. "I have not drawn you yet."

Mr. Riddle's voice was rather agitated as he responded. "You drew the puffskein before you drew me!"

Miss Grindelwald regarded him earnestly. "I left a space for you. I was going to draw you next."

As the bell rang, Mr. Riddle seemed to regain his former composure. He began calmly and methodically packing up his belongings. "We need to stop at your rooms in the dungeons and drop off the puffskein before going to see Dippet."

"But I want to keep my puffskein with me."

Eyeing the puffskein, Mr. Riddle shook his head. "No, that thing definitely needs to go."

#########################################

Armando Dippet gave a sigh of relief to see Mr. Riddle escort into his office only Miss Grindelwald. Dismissing Mr. Riddle, Dippet knew that if he had had to endure the presence of that puffskein one more time, there was no telling what he would have done.

#########################################

Immediately upon entering the room, the young man used his wand to light the fireplace. From above the fireplace the room's other occupant was at first unconcerned. Even in the early summer months and even in human form the young man's companion enjoyed the warmth of the fire.

It was only after the young man removed a small creature from the folds of his robes and he remembered that this was the hour the girl usually spent in the Headmaster's office, that he began to comprehend what was to happen.

So as not to have to witness what was to come, he immediately made to leave for the sanctuary of another frame in the castle. Any other frame in the castle. However his momentary lapse had left him already too late.

The horrid screeching sound that replaced the puffskein's usual humming noise might not have in actuality lasted very long, but it would haunt him for quite some time after.

_tbc_


	44. Chapter 44

_Chapter 44_

_A/N Thank you Maria for taking the time to beta this. As always, I made numerous changes and additions after Maria was sent a copy so any errors remaining are entirely the author's fault._

_When it is said in this chapter that a wizard's word is binding, it isn't talking about things unintentionally said in everyday conversation. It is referring to something more deliberate, like a muggle attempt at an oral contract._

Standing at the castle doors, Robert Binns clutched his cloak tightly about himself, trying to keep the wind and the rain from penetrating through to his robes beneath.

"Miss Grindelwald, get inside this instant!"

The girl made no effort to follow his direction. Reluctantly, Binns made his way out into the downpour.

"What are you doing out here? You are going to catch your death standing out here."

The girl's robes had long since soaked through. Her teeth were chattering as she replied. "If I catch a cold I will have more bogies and maybe then my puffskein will come back."

Since her beloved pet had 'gone missing' several days ago the girl had been inconsolable. Though what had really become of it was quite obvious to everyone involved, no one spoke of it openly. Instead they all played along with the story that the puffskein had 'disappeared.'

With a sigh Binns removed his cloak and draped it around the girl.

"It doesn't work that way. He isn't coming back."

Her eyes were filled with such sorrow as she looked up at him. "Why not? What did I do?"

Again Binns sighed. That was a question he himself had asked many a time. Over the years he had had countless familiars. While he had never lost one by eating it, some had inexplicably died and others had run off, discontent to stay with him.

"It's what they do. They run off or they die or they run off and then die. There is no rhyme or reason to it. It can't be helped. There is nothing you can do to prevent it, it simply happens. They are beasts, it's just what they do."

They remained for a time standing, silently and solemnly, in the rain. His words appeared to have gotten through to her. At last she allowed him to guide her back into the castle. After casting a drying charm upon her, he sent her on her way back to her rooms.

#########################################

The past few days Armando Dippet felt he had been making progress with the girl. There had been a remarkable improvement in her disposition. Without the influence and encouragement of that wretched puffskein, she had become quieter, much more docile, and easily managed. The past few days she had even taken the mandrake potion without her usual antics. However, today she had not arrived for their usual tea appointment. As she would need her mandrake potion shortly, he decided to stop in the dungeons to see the girl.

Entering her dungeon rooms he found her still laying on the bed. Not asleep, but not dressed for the day yet either. Now instead of being wrapped round her puffskein, her arms were pulled round one of her pillows.

"Why are you not dressed yet? It is nearly two o'clock."

He sighed as the girl wordlessly shrugged in response. As he transfigured her nightdress into day robes he questioned her. "Why didn't you come to my office today?"

The girl again shrugged. "My Tom did not come for me and anyway I want to be here in case my puffskein comes back."

Dippet frowned and took out the mandrake potion. He held it out to her insistently until she reluctantly drank it.

"Actions have consequences. The puffskein isn't going to be coming back."

The girl titled her head down towards her lap before responding. "But I want him to come back. I miss him."

Of all the cheek! To have done what she did and then to be looking for sympathy for having done it. This was really getting to be too much. Dippet responded, perhaps a bit more harshly than he intended. "Then you shouldn't have eaten him."

The girl buried her face into her pillow and made a weeping sound.

Dippet had never had anyone cry before him before. Uncertain of what to do, he simply stared for a moment. She was facing away from him so it seemed clear that she wanted to be left alone. He backed out of the room quietly so as not to further disturb her.

On his way back through the common room, he caught sight of Mr. Riddle conversing and laughing with a group of his housemates. He beckoned him over.

"Mr. Riddle, I think perhaps you should go and check in on Miss Grindelwald. She seems a bit… distraught. I would stay myself, but I need to go prepare for the meeting with some of the Masters that I have scheduled for later this afternoon. After all, it is imperative that we find a way to thwart Governor Malfoy's efforts remove the girl from Hogwarts."

He immediately realized his error by the look of alarm that suddenly crossed Mr. Riddle's face.

"What are you talking about? You said she was going to be staying here. Who is Malfoy and what meeting?"

The error had already been made. Short of obliviating the boy, there was no way out. "Governor Malfoy, one of the school Board of Governors, is petitioning the Ministry for custody of Miss Grindelwald as payment of the wergild for his brother's death."

'Payment of the wergild' had several different possible interpretations and when Mr. Riddle came to the same erroneous conclusion that others had come to before him, Dippet saw no reason to correct him.

"Well, he can't adopt her! I won't let him! Kitten was given to me!"

"Yes, yes, but be that as it may, there is still the Ministry and the Minister to be dealt with so if you will excuse me."

Mr. Riddle was really growing quite presumptuous. "When is the meeting? I want to come."

Dippet gave a sigh of resignation. "In my office, shortly after dinner, now if you will excuse me."

Returning to his office, Armando Dippet was unpleasantly surprised to discover the Minister of Magic waiting for him. By the man's smirk it was clear he knew something Dippet didn't.

"From what I hear, you have been looking for someone to contest Mephistopheles Malfoy's wergild claim for the Grindelwald girl. I wanted to offer my congratulations; your efforts have been quite successful. The Ministry has received two other petitions for custody of the girl."

Dippet had known Minister Augustus for many years. Obviously congratulating him was not the actual purpose of Augustus's presence here. Taunting him, perhaps? Yes, from the Minister's next words that seemed clear enough.

"I find it very amusing to see you proven so very wrong. What was it you told me? 'It is hardly as if anyone else is going to want her?' Well, it certainly seems you have been proven wrong."

It was clear that the Minister intended for him to inquire regarding who else was petitioning for custody of the girl. More than a little apprehensive, Dippet did. "And who might these other two interested parties be?"

"You know the Black family? Mrs. Black is one of the interested parties. Of course hers is just a nuisance petition, no real validity to it. The other party, now that one has validity to it, but I'm not sure if you have ever personally met the other interested party."

Dippet sighed. Did they really have to play this game? "And the second party might be?"

"Well, the second party is more of a group of people…well, 'people' actually isn't the best of words to describe the second party. You know a wizard's word is binding and a contract is a contract no matter how long ago it was made."

"Get to the point, Augustus."

Augustus grinned. "If you insist, Armando. The Dementors of Azkaban have expressed a very keen interest in the girl. They claim that once, a very long time ago, they were promised two souls. Only one soul was ever delivered and now that the opportunity has presented itself, they would really like to get that second soul."

Involuntarily, Dippet's mouth opened, despite his inability for speech. It irked him to no end to see Augustus' smile in response to the action.

"Of course, there is a way to put an end to all this right now…"

Augustus trailed off into a moment of silence to allow Dippet an opportunity to speak if he so desired. When Dippet did not, Augustus continued. "I'm sure you won't mind, I thought we could have the hearing here at Hogwarts on Wednesday."

Augustus touched the brim of his hat almost in a salute before sweeping back out of the room.

The Dementors of Azkaban.

Just when Dippet was finally beginning to get a sense that he was making a difference, that he was having some effect on the girl, now the Minister wished to expose her to the horrors of Azkaban and undo all that progress.

The Dementors of Azkaban removed from an individual all feelings of contentment and hope; they caused a person to remember, to relive their most painful experiences. All this time Dippet had been diligently working to not refresh the girl's memory, to allow her memories of her father and the skills he taught her to remain forgotten. With just a few minutes in the Dementors' presence, all that work would be undone.

If the Minister were truly to send the girl to live with the Dementors, all his efforts would have been for naught. He would no longer have need to wonder about 'why' the girl would grow up to commit such heinous acts. Just the Dementors' influence would be 'why' enough.

With a Wednesday deadline there was not much time remaining. He hoped that one of the others would arrive at the meeting later today with a solution. While he still did have the one alternative that Minister Augustus had alluded to, he would greatly prefer to first see if one of the others could think of a substitute.

####################################

His portrait might be hung in the Slytherin Head Boy's room, but he had no desire to inhabit it. For the past few days, he had instead taken up residence in an empty landscape hung in the Slytherin Head Girl's room.

There, he had been able to almost completely avoid the presence of the perfidious young man.

The young man had escorted the girl back to the entrance of her rooms after her meeting with the Headmaster that first afternoon, but with a smug expression had left her alone to discover the lack of her beloved. Having eliminated the other object of the girl's affection, the young man had been content to leave her behind, while gallivanting with the friends he had long neglected in deference of the girl. Absent much of the last few days, the young man had been entirely missing the past day. He had not been around to see the full effects of his vindictive action, as the girl began to finally come to understand that her puffskein was in fact not going to be returning.

To have him now enter the room, and seeing the effect approach in an effort to comfort her, seemed absurd. His words, though spoken softly, had only the effect of making her bury her face further into the pillow.

"Kitten, why are you crying? It was just a stupid puffskein."

Even with the young man stroking her hair in a clumsy attempt to comfort her, the muffled cries did not abate.

"Kitten, please stop crying. You're getting yourself all worked up over such a silly thing. It was only a puffskein."

He looked to be growing frustrated and impatient as his words had no effect, but for once the young man managed to keep his temper in check. He continued stroking her hair. Eventually the sobs subsided once the girl cried herself to the first sleep she had had in days.

Later when she stirred slightly, the young man made an attempt to coax her to the Great Hall for an early dinner, but wordlessly the girl refused. Growing more and more alarmed by her conduct, when the girl gave the appearance of again drifting to sleep, the young man departed.

######################################

Kevric Kettleburn cautiously greeted Tom Riddle as the boy entered his office. After the 'disappearance' of the puffskein, Binns had repeated to him a few choice words that Tom had said to Kitten about both Kevric and the eating habits of cats. While certainly he had considered the possibility that somehow Kitten might learn the truth about cats and puffskeins, he hadn't expected that it would be Tom Riddle deliberately telling her.

"Tom."

While he was disappointed with the boy for telling Kitten those things, he was far more angry with himself. He really should have known better than to give the girl a puffskein and allow her to stop taking the mandrake potion that prevented her from transforming. Certainly he had foreseen that the girl could learn that cats do indeed eat puffskeins, and he already knew she wasn't always willing to listen to instructions, like not to transform even though she could. He realized now that it had been foolish of him, but he had sincerely believed that even if she had found out and she had transformed, after having grown so attached to the puffskein, her affection for it would have outweighed any other instincts she might have towards it.

Kevric harbored no ill feelings towards the girl over it. It was his own fault really. He had been too idealistic and forgotten the foremost rule in animal handling; animals have instincts that could overrule the best of intentions.

"Professor Kettleburn, something's not right with Kitten. She doesn't want to leave her rooms and she won't eat or drink or do anything. I think she must be sick again."

Kevric sighed. "No, Tom there isn't anything physically wrong with her. She's depressed. She misses her puffskein and I'm sure she is feeling guilty about what she did to it."

Even before Tom spoke, just by the look of guilt that crossed his face it was clear that the boy now regretted telling her that cats eat puffskeins. "She keeps asking for it and waiting for it to come back."

"Tom, I don't think she is necessarily lying about it. I suspect she doesn't consciously remember doing it."

Tom grimaced. "You don't really know what happened to the puffskein. I mean, no one saw her do anything to it. Maybe it did run away."

"That's where you're wrong, Tom. I do know what happened to it. Kitten's puffskein had some…let's just say unique features. It wouldn't be the best of ideas for it to be wandering around producing more puffskeins, so when it went missing I cast a spell to try to locate it. If the puffskein was still alive I would have been able to find it."

"Okay, so maybe something did happen to it, but that doesn't mean Kitten harmed it. Maybe a real cat got a hold of it. She isn't a real cat, she wouldn't have eaten it. That's even more disgusting than the puffskein eating snots."

"Tom, she is an animagus and animagi take on some of the aspects of the animal they transform into. Haven't you ever noticed the way she looks at Dippet's toad or even Hagrid's mice?"

"But that's revolting. Alright, maybe she likes to chase things, but she wouldn't really eat them."

"Tom, I don't think it's even entirely about the puffskein. I think its possible the loss of the puffskein has brought back to mind the loss of her father. She lived as a cat for a long time after he was taken from her, and as a cat she didn't have to experience the emotions surrounding it as fully as she otherwise would have. I think now she is. You just have to give her a little time."

After Tom left, Kevric thought about going to check on Kitten himself. In the end, he decided Dippet was right; he had already caused enough damage.

#######################################

Albus Dumbledore quietly entered the open door of Miss Grindelwald's chambers. At first, the way she was curled up on the bed, he thought she was sleeping. It was only as he went to leave that he discovered otherwise. In turning, the heel of one of his boots squeaked. At the sound, Minerva immediately turned round. The look of disappointment on her face to see it was him, or rather that it was not her puffskein, was heartrending.

"Hello."

She turned back to face in the other direction.

"I'm was very sorry to hear about your puffskein."

The way she was laying gave him more than ample room to sit next to her on the bed.

Dumbledore had of course heard a version of what had supposedly happened to the puffskein. While not one himself, he was well aware that Animagi often carried over certain characteristics, including eating habits, from the animal they transformed into. It was quite possible the girl had transformed and eaten the puffskein. Still, absent some real form of proof, he was quite willing to withhold judgment on what exactly had happened to the puffskein. After all, Hogwarts had many real cats in residence and was it not equally likely to have been one of them?

"Would you like to talk about it?"

She still didn't speak, but she did give a little shake of her head.

"Would you like some company, but no talking about your puffskein?"

Again she gave a little shake of her head. Though she couldn't see it, Dumbledore nodded. "Alright. If you change your mind and you would like to talk or even not talk, you can come see me anytime."

As he rose from the bed she did finally speak, still facing away from him. "Your watch is in the table drawer."

Pulling out the drawer to the nightstand he could indeed see his watch. Taking it out of the drawer, he decided Kettleburn be damned. By the chain he lowered it onto the bed by the girl's hands.

"It is your watch now. Remember, I gave it to you."

Taking one last glance backward as he headed out the door, though there was no happy smile to accompany it this time, Dumbledore saw the watch again enclosed in her hands.

#########################################

Armando Dippet noticed more than one eyebrow go up as Tom Riddle joined the assembly. With the additions of Mr. Riddle and Master Shackleton, the earlier quartet of Dumbledore, Binns, Kettleburn and Dippet had grown to six.

Deputy Headmaster Shackleton made the poor choice of attempting to begin the conversation with a bit of ill placed humor. "I have the perfect solution of what to do with the girl."

With all eyes excitedly concentrated on him, Shackleton offered up his punch line. "Transfigure her back into a cat and send her to live with those muggles again."

Seeing four pairs of irritated eyes and one pair of outraged eyes fixed upon him, Shackleton attempted to defend himself. "Oh come on, it was funny! You people are getting too uptight; lighten up! I don't reply to them, but you should see some of the letters that muggle woman sends me demanding her cat back. She has got to have the foulest temper that I have ever seen. Why if they were howlers-"

Mr. Riddle's sense of humor was apparently so underdeveloped as to not even be able to ascertain that Master Shackleton was jesting. "-Thomas McGonagall gave Kitten to me, he said I could have her. He gave his word, his blessings even, and I will not release him from it. I won't ever give her back!"

Dippet sighed. Why ever had he allowed Mr. Riddle to come along? "Mr. Riddle, a wizard's word can in some cases be considered a binding contract, but Mr. McGonagall was not a wizard. Besides he had no standing to make any such offer. You can purchase a cat, but you cannot purchase a child."

Considering the reason for this meeting, Binns countered that last statement. "Well, except for dowries and the wergild, but those are entirely different matters. The McGonagall family never had any real claim to the girl."

Dippet nodded. "Now, enough of this childishness. The situation has grown even more serious since we last spoke. In addition to Governor Malfoy's petition on the basis of the wergild, it would seem the Dementors of Azkaban have also expressed interest in the girl."

"On what grounds? She has committed no crime. Well, that they know of."

Binns snorted. "Really Kettleburn, did you never pay attention in my class? The race of Themis are partially descended from the Dementors, who through the years have also been referred to as the hell feonds or the hell fiends, not to mention the soul devourers, and Nefarius Atrox. Legend tells us that hundreds and hundreds of years ago, in the First Age of Wizardry, in a time before rampant Muggledom, during the Great Wizard Purge, when most of the last of the true pure-blood witches and wizards were destroyed, but not all of the true pure-blooded witches and wizards, just most of the pure-blooded witches and wizards, because attempts were made to save some for use in forced breeding programs, which never quite managed to work out well for anybody and of course is looked back upon now by many of our historians as one of, if not the darkest spot in Wizarding history, right along with-"

Wondering if Binns went on like that in his classes, Dippet interrupted. "A long time ago the Dementors were promised two Themis souls. They only ever got one and now they want the other."

Shackleton looked quite puzzled. "But she doesn't have a soul. She _is_ a Themis."

"Be that as it may, they would still like to have the girl." Answered Dippet.

Binns sank into his chair, resentful at the interruption.

"Master Dumbledore given the change of circumstance do you think it possible the Bones family might reconsider helping?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I don't believe so. Amelia is of age. Susan Bones allowed her request to return to Hogwarts, but she kept her two younger children home."

Shackleton spoke confidently. "Well, it seems there is only one solution left."

Apprehensively, Dippet regarded his second in command. "And that would be?"

"Armando, you should take the girl, leave Hogwarts at once, and never return."

"Oh, of all the…"

"Armando, I am serious. At least think about it. Please."

Dippet again sighed. "You are never to be Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Now, does anyone have any _serious_ suggestions?"

When Master Binns snorted, Master Kettleburn questioned him on it. "Why do you keep doing that, Robert? Do you have some kind of nasal problem or is there something you would like to add to the conversation?"

Binns again snorted. "No one wants to hear what I have to say. People only want to interrupt and talk over me when I am-"

Now that he thought about it, Dippet realized Binns had been wearing quite the smug, condescending expression the past few conversations about the girl. "-Oh, for the love of Merlin, would you just say whatever it is!"

Now that it was clear Binns had no way out other than to speak, he didn't look so confident. He was positively squirming in his chair. "There is someone who has a claim on the girl that would supercede all others."

Binns was truly infuriating today. Having said that, he just sat there, saying no more. Kettleburn again needled him. "So are we supposed to just try to guess or do we get to ask you yes and no questions along the way?"

Binns crossed his arms in front of him. "It's someone in this room and that's all I'm going to say!"

"Armando, I know we aren't allowed to strike the students, but what about Robert? Can I slap him?"

Binns' expression in response to Shackleton's words was quite the cross between a scowl and a pout. "I'm not going to say it because I know what it is you people will think of me for saying it, the same thing we all thought about Malfoy."

All still wore a puzzled look. Kettleburn made a suggestion. "Shackleton, would you like me to hold him while you hit him?"

Binns sighed. "You people are all thinking about it the wrong way. You are trying to find someone with a greater wergild claim than Malfoy, which the way it is structured isn't going to happen.

Now, if the Minister is going to decide what to do with the girl based on a clause of the wergild so outdated that it hasn't been used in centuries or an agreement made with the Dementors so long ago that it is only spoken of in legends, then Dumbledore could make a request for the girl based on Geras - a prize of honor. Prize of honor is awarded before any other considerations are made. And after all, didn't Grindelwald himself state that it was Dumbledore who defeated him?"

'Prize of honor' was a very ancient custom whereby those noted to have fought the most valiantly in a triumphant campaign were rewarded. From amongst the captive enemy's women, the greatest of the battle's heroes were allowed to take what could only be described as a souvenir. A woman retained as a 'prize of honor' was quite literally a possession. She had not the status of a wife or even that of a concubine; she was considered merely a toy, a sexual plaything. The custom had gone out use at about the time of the fall of Troy.

All assembled wore a look of utmost revulsion, but none so much as Dumbledore himself.

Well, perhaps Mr. Riddle. "You would do that? You would do that to a child! You sick de-"

Oddly enough, though the idea had been suggested by Master Binns, it was Master Dumbledore who bore the brunt of Mr. Riddle's outburst. "-Tom! Sit down! I would never!"

Thinking it was directed at him, Binns was beginning to panic. "I don't mean to suggest really doing it. I only meant to say he could end this all by asserting his right to…to…" Master Binns gave into the panic and stopped speaking.

While the idea left quite the sickly taste in his mouth, Dippet found it to be a slightly more agreeable idea than the alternative he himself had come up with as a last resort. "Does anyone have any other ideas in mind?"

A long moment of silence followed that question.

"That settles it then. Dumbledore can write a declaration to the Ministry of his intentions regarding the girl. The girl will remain here and that can be an end to the matter."

Dumbledore didn't seem to agree. "Armando, you can't be serious. The very idea is obscene!"

Dippet directed his response not only to Dumbledore, but also to the still fuming Mr. Riddle. "While I agree it certainly isn't the most seemly of solutions, no one else has offered a better one. Naturally it is to be a pretense. You would certainly never actually put the girl to such a use, however a claim for a prize of honor is predicated on the condition of usage, so we must give the appearance of such. We just have to hope no one tries to call us on it."

Seeing that Dumbledore still did not look at all onboard, Dippet asked of him a rhetorical question. "Would you rather she go to Azkaban or leave with Malfoy?"

#######################################

She had been in the room all day today again. Though she seemed to now accept that the puffskein would not be returning, she still had no desire to leave her rooms. She had neglected her classes for several days now. Attempts to coax her to the Great Hall had been unsuccessful. As a result, meals were brought to her room for her, but they were left untouched. Were it not for the mandrake potion preventing her, he was certain she would have transfigured into the form of a cat given the way her small form was curled upon the bed.

The young man approached the bed almost tentatively. He laid down beside her and after kissing her cheek began to gently stroke her hair. His voice was quiet and more than a bit guilt ridden.

"I'm sorry about the puffskein."

After a moment of no response, the young man made a suggestion.

"Let's get another puffskein. This one will be our puffskein and we can take care of it together."

The girl's lower lip trembled slightly, but her voice was rather firm. After that one time, she hadn't again resorted to crying.

"I do not want another puffskein."

The young man tried again. "What about a kitten of your own or some other creature? We can get whatever you want and I will help make sure nothing bad ever happens to this one."

Her tone in response was far more disillusioned than befitted one her age. "Why bother? Another one will just do the same thing. It will just run off or die or run off and then die. It can't be helped. It's just what they do."

#########################################

Albus Dumbledore looked up as a smiling Mephistopheles Malfoy entered his empty classroom. Just the way Malfoy was looking him up and down disgusted him.

"So, Dumbledore what is this I hear about you looking for a new plaything? I must admit, I never took you for the type, what with all the high minded talk you are usually spewing. It seems we are not so different, you and I."

"Malfoy," just saying the word made his mouth feel foul. "You and I have nothing in common and I have nothing to discuss with you."

Malfoy shrugged. "Oh, but I think we do. You see, you and I are both after the same thing."

Dumbledore's outrage was such that he responded without thinking. "She isn't a thing, she is a little girl!"

Malfoy's mouth widened further. "That opinion, my dear Professor Dumbledore, is where you and I differ. And why your request is to be dismissed. You can't claim a prize if you have no intention of using it. I, on the other hand, have every intention of using it."

Malfoy's eyes were sparkling as he continued. "Of course, if you actually were to…put the girl to _use_, that would be another matter. A child that young, it will be easy enough for your school nurse to find evidence. Then I would stand corrected and your claim could proceed."

Dumbledore sighed after Malfoy had left the room. Certainly he had no intentions of ever doing such a thing so it appeared Dippet's bluff had been called.

#########################################

The hour was quite late and the castle mostly darkened when the girl finally ventured out of her room. From the landscape, through the chalk drawing in the common room, to his usual frame, he followed her. While brushing the chalk of the last frame off of his garments, he watched as she climbed up on the bed. The young man awoke and smiling, he pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. With her arms wrapped around his neck, he carried her out to the common room. Watching her fall asleep curled against him, the young man seemed quite pleased to again have his Kitten back.

###########################################

The Minister had assigned Alastor Moody the task of monitoring the girl until he returned for her. Two chairs had been left in the entrance hall for their use. The girl was using one, but Moody's was empty. He preferred to stand, to be ready should the need for action arise.

He noticed the girl was much quieter than last time he had been this close to her. She had been so energetic and excitable that time that he hadn't really believed the story of her being sick. Today, if the Magical Creatures Professor had tried the same story, he might have believed it. Moody didn't quite know how to describe the change that had come over her, but if he had to pick one word, it would be 'diminished'.

As the minutes ticked by, she did seem to grow a little restless. First, she started kicking her feet against the legs of her chair. Then she started trying to turn around in her chair to look back at him.

He didn't take his wand out, but he did put his hand in his pocket to reassure himself it was there.

She did that a few times, twisting her body to look at him standing behind her. When she started doing her malevolent head tilting thing, he knew trouble was coming. When she spoke, she stated the words so calmly, he could almost call her tone conversational.

"Give me candy or I will scream."

"What?"

"Give me candy or I will scream."

What she said, it was so unexpected that he told the truth rather than just tell her no.

"I don't have any candy."

"Oh." The girl looked mildly surprised, as if that possibility hadn't occurred to her. She again faced forward in her seat.

He was still watching her a few minutes later when an older girl who was walking by got called over. Moody's breath caught as he saw the Head Girl badge and realized it was Minister Bones' daughter, Emily.

"Excuse me."

Hearing the little voice, Emily Bones paused. From the uncertainty showing on her face there was no doubt that she knew who the little girl was.

The little girl again called out to her, "Excuse me."

Emily Bones slowly approached. Very tentatively, she spoke. "Hello."

"Hello. Do you _have_ any candy?"

Still staring at the girl, Emily shook her head slightly. From behind, Moody couldn't see the girl's expression, but he could tell that she was staring at her feet and had again started hitting them against the chair.

Emily remained, looking uncertainly at the little girl.

Moody straightened as Millicent Bagnold, the Head of the Department of Law Enforcement, entered. Bagnold gave him a nod, but paused by Emily Bones.

"Amelia Bones? I almost didn't recognize you. How are you dear?"

Moody made a mental note in case the need to know ever arose again. 'Amelia, not Emily.'

Once Amelia walked away that deceptively sweet voice started again.

"Excuse me. Do you _have_ any candy?"

Bagnold turned towards the Grindelwald girl with a slight smile. She began to rummage through her robes.

"Hello. I think I might have some gum. Would you-"

Again came the demand in a tone not at all demanding.

"-Give me candy or I will scream."

Shocked, Bagnold stopped rummaging in her pockets. "You won't be getting any candy from me or anyone else asking like that!"

Bagnold waited a moment, but nothing happened. "I didn't give you candy. Aren't you going to scream?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders. "I just wanted to see if you would give it to me or not."

Throwing a confused look at the girl, Bagnold walked past her to speak to Moody. "I cannot believe Augustus went around me to do this. He tried to get me to sign an order of removal when the Quibbler article came out, but I absolutely refused. It wouldn't surprise me if he suggested the idea of petitioning to the Dementors. What is he thinking? Sending a child to Azkaban!"

Not having much to say, Moody merely nodded while remaining focused on the back of the girl in front of him. Millicent Bagnold had apparently been seeking more of a response. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him.

"Moody, why are you standing behind Miss Grindelwald?"

Moody thought the answer to that should be obvious. Though it was long before he was even born, Millicent Bagnold had been an auror for many years.

"It's best to keep out of the object of surveillance's line of vision."

To Moody, Bagnold seemed to be misplacing her anger and frustration at the Minister onto him.

"-Really, Moody! I would have expected more sense from you than this. What-"

The heel banging had started up again. Bagnold took a deep, calming breath before turning to the girl. Moody found it more than a bit unfair that while she had scolded him, Bagnold only presented herself to the girl as firm.

"Stop that kicking. You're going to scuff the chair."

Moody was surprised to see the girl do as she was told. Still, he wasn't at all unhappy with the diversion of Bagnold's attention away from him. Bagnold moved closer to get a better look at the girl.

"The Minister will be back from the Headmaster's office in a few minutes. You are supposed to be ready to leave when he does. Why aren't you packed?"

The girl didn't seem too concerned.

"We should go get your belongings. You won't be coming back…well, for a while."

"I do not have any belongings."

Bagnold frowned slightly. "I mean your things, like your toys and the things you play with."

The girl just gave a half-hearted shrug. "I used to have a tail that was good for chasing, but it is gone now. I had a toy mouse that I liked it, but I am not supposed to play with it anymore. There was a box and a puffskein, too, but I do not know where they are now. I might have eaten the puffskein, but I cannot remember."

"Well…" Bagnold clearly didn't know what to make of all this. "…then let's at least go get your clothes."

"I am wearing my clothes."

"I mean your other clothes. The ones you aren't wearing right now."

"I do not have any other clothes."

Frown deepening, Bagnold snapped slightly. "Of course you do. You can't have been wearing that same set of robes all the time you have been here. Tell me, do you sleep in them at night as well?"

The girl seemed to be getting a little bothered by all the questions. She stopped answering.

From behind her, Moody couldn't see the girl's face, but he could see Bagnold's eyes searching it. Her voice was much softer as she again asked, "Do you sleep in them at night as well?"

The girl nodded. "And I take my baths in them, too."

When Bagnold looked to him for corroboration, Moody shrugged. "They transfigure it into a nightdress at night and robes for during the day."

He didn't see what the big deal was, but Bagnold looked horrified.

Binns, the Magical History Professor passed by. Concerned, he paused by the girl to question them. "Meeting still going on upstairs?"

Bagnold nodded before stepping closer to Moody. Moody could see the girl tugging on the Professor's sleeve, trying to get his attention. He couldn't hear what she was saying to the Professor, but he had a pretty good guess. A panicked look transfixed Binns' face. He turned from side to side, as if looking for an escape.

As the Professor hastily dropped a bag of candy into the girl's lap, the sound of some of the flavored beans spilling out onto the floor caused Bagnold to turn. The Professor knocked over the extra chair in his haste to scurry away. From the disinterested way the girl pocketed the treats without eating even one, Moody got the impression she was just going through the motions.

Watching it all, Bagnold's jaw dropped . "Moody, what _exactly _has been going on here?"

############################################

Armando Dippet frowned watching Minister Augustus hold up the first of the petitions.

"So Mr. Riddle is petitioning on the basis that a muggle told him he could have her."

He crinkled the parchment into a ball without even the appearance of considering it. He picked up the next in the stack before giving Mrs. Black an odd look.

"Mrs. Black, am I to understand your petition is based on, and please do correct me if I am wrong, your family being so heavily inbred with the Malfoy's that you believe you should share equally, if not doubly in any claim the Malfoy's might have to the child?"

Pursed lips and a moment of awkward silence followed Mrs. Black's affirmative nod. Dippet noticed Mephistopheles Malfoy hardly looked scandalized by the statement, he merely rolled his eyes.

"All right then." The Minister filed Mrs. Black's petition in the same manner as Mr. Riddle's.

"Headmaster Dippet has also filed a petition for the girl, but he too has no real standing in the case. Professor Dumbledore's claim has been found lacking, which leaves us with Mr. Malfoy and the guards of Azkaban, both with very relevant claims."

The numerous condescending looks that the Minister sent his way while continuing to talk did not escape Dippet's notice.

"After reviewing all of the available information and weighing the various considerations, I have come to my decision. Custody of the girl shall immediately be turned over t-"

Rising from his seat, Armando Dippet interrupted. "-Minister Augustus, might I speak to you a moment in private."

The Minister, rather than look displeased at the interruption, seemed amused. "Certainly, Headmaster."

Riding the staircase down from his office Dippet clenched his teeth. How he had hoped it would not have to come to this!

"What is it now, Dippet? I had just gotten to the good part!"

Holding in the sigh that sought to escape, Dippet spoke quickly before the other man's smugness could alter his resolve. "I apologize. I apologize for the things I said to you before and for having misled you."

As the Minister made no attempt to interrupt him, Dippet continued speaking. "You have every right to be angry with me. However, what I did was my decision. The girl should not be punished for it and you know it."

A look that was a cross between self-righteousness and disappointment graced Minister Augustus' face. "And?"

"And you are a far better man than I am."

"And?"

Dippet could hold back his sigh no longer. "You are a far better man than I could ever dream of being."

As he continued speaking, Dippet knew there was no way the Minister could miss the irritation and insincerity in his voice. "You are noble and kind. Generous of the heart and the spirit. Wise and -"

"-Now was that so very hard to say? You have to admit, I had you on this one, Armando. I had you." Augustus sighed petulantly. "All right fine, you can keep her. But this isn't necessarily my final word on the matter. I am reserving judgment for the moment. But Armando, I warn you, you had better keep her in line."

##############################

It was late and Robert Binns was more than ready for bed, however before he retired to his own chambers he had one last task for the night. He made his way to the Slytherin common room to ensure Mr. Riddle and Miss Grindelwald were there and not together in either's room.

That the pair had reverted back to their earlier habit had not completely escaped his attention. He knew he should put an end to it. There would be trouble were it to ever get back to Dippet, but really, why should he have to be the one to deal with it? Besides, as long as they were in the common room he really didn't see the need.

Entering the common room he noticed it was darker than usual, the fire had almost died out. In the little light left, he looked to the couch Riddle and the girl usually slept in. The girl was asleep, but Riddle's eyes were open, staring rather intently at something. Binns turned to himself look in the direction Tom faced.

################################

Albus Dumbledore was conversing with Kettleburn and Shackleton outside the Great Hall when it first started. The screaming was coming from the dungeons and the voice sounded unmistakably like that of a little girl.

The three men sprinted all the way to the dungeons. The door to the Slytherin common room was already open. Entering they found Robert Binns, hands covering his eyes, screaming as loud as he could.

"Oh Merlin, it was horrible!"

Dumbledore waved his wand to light the room while Binns continued moaning.

"I saw them! Right here! It was horrible! Horrible, I tell you! Horrible!"

As the light spread, Dumbledore could have sworn he saw a figure dart down the corridor towards the dormitories. Looking around the room Tom Riddle, a just waking Minerva Grindelwald, and a very disheveled, mottled looking Barty Crouch remained.

Shackleton reprimanded Binns. "Robert, get a hold of yourself!"

Dumbledore too tried to get the older professor to speak coherently. "Robert, what did you see?"

Binns took a deep breath. When Shackleton slapped his colleague across the face, Dumbledore suspected it was more because he wanted to rather than a wish to be helpful. Either way it didn't seem to have much effect.

"Oh Merlin, it was horrible! I want to be obliviated!"

With a suspicious look to a slightly flustered looking Riddle, Dumbledore tried again. "Robert, what happened? What did you see?"

"There were two of them. It was him…" Binns pointed to the Crouch boy. "…and there was another one. A girl…that Perkins girl. And…and they were in the house common room. They were desecrating it!"

"Desecrating it? What Perkins girl? We don't have a Perkins girl. What the devil are you talking about, Robert?" Shackleton seemed to want to again slap Binns.

"I want to be obliviated!"

Kettleburn was looking back and forth between Binns and the Crouch boy with an amused expression. "Perkins is the name Robert gives to anyone whose real name he can't remember. Robert walked in on a snog session."

Binns grew, if possible, even more incensed. "You think this is funny? And you…you…" Disgusted, Binns turned to face Riddle. "…you were just sitting there watching them!"

Tom shook his head adamantly. "I was asleep until I heard the screaming start."

"I saw you! Your eyes were open!"

Again Tom shook his head.

Binns grew more and more flustered. "Are you calling me a liar?"

Tom's attempt to remain calm seemed to be agitating Binns. "No, sir. I'm just calling you mistaken."

Binns looked to his colleagues for support. "Who are you going to believe? Me or a student?"

Shackleton was the first to answer. "Robert, do you really want us to answer that question?"

Even Dumbledore had to admit, were it any other student but Tom, he would have supported the student's version.

Dumbledore wondered why exactly it was that Tom seemed to be trying to salvage the situation by giving Binns a way out. "Sir, you were standing over there." Riddle pointed a finger towards the door. "You didn't have a very good view of the couch."

Binns stared at Riddle's outstretched finger for a moment. And then, right before the Headmaster arrived Binns leaned forward and as hard as he could, bit Tom Riddle's outstretched finger.

######################################

"-You bit me!"

"-Don't try to tell me what I did or didn't see!"

"-Oh for the love of Merlin!"

"-Binns!"

Armando Dippet had also heard the high pitched screaming and had come to investigate. "What on earth is going on here?"

His Deputy seemed far too delighted as he rushed to answer. "Binns bit a student!"

"Tattletale!"

"Silence! Robert, we have spoken about this before. No biting the students!"

Dippet interrupted Dumbledore as he began to speak.

"Armando -"

"-Dumbledore, how many times do I have to tell you, stay out of this! This matter does not concern you; return to your own house immediately."

Kettleburn spoke up next to try to explain. "Apparently Binns walked in on Crouch and some girl having a snog session."

"And the girl would be?"

"Perkins! It was the Perkins girl!"

Dippet frowned and turned to his Deputy. "Do we have a student named Perkins?"

"No, it's just something Robert made up."

"Master Shackleton, please find the girl in question. Escort her to Madame Griselda's office so that we may find out whether Mr. Crouch will be spending this summer celebrating not only his graduation, but a wedding as well."

Master Binns again spoke up. "Riddle was sitting there! Watching them!"

Appalled, Dippet turned to regard Mr. Riddle and for the first time noticed Miss Grindelwald. "Robert, why isn't the girl in her rooms? It is nearly midnight."

Dippet wasn't really sure why Binns told him, perhaps he thought by getting someone else in trouble it would spread around the blame, perhaps he was too excited to realize that what he said was an admission against not only Mr. Riddle, but himself as well, perhaps he simply disliked Mr. Riddle enough for it to be worth it.

"Mr. Riddle and Miss Grindelwald have been sleeping together in the house common room all along!"

Further appalled, Dippet turned to Mr. Riddle in time to see the look of wrath he directed at the History of Magic Master. "You mean the girl was here and saw as well?"

Apparently his question momentarily threw Mr. Riddle far enough off guard to get an unchecked response. "Of course I didn't let her watch! She was asleep the whole time they were-"

Just as Dippet was about to begin an outraged tirade, Miss Grindelwald interrupted with a question that immediately silenced everyone in the room.

Pointing to the marks on Mr. Crouch's neck she asked, "What are those? Did something bite you?"

Well, it silenced everyone in the room except Mr. Crouch. "They're just snog marks."

"What is a snog?"

For a moment no one said a word. Then Binns, starting to panic, spoke. "It…it's a fifty legged creature that lives in the forest and it has little suckers at the ends of each of its legs and it tries to suck your face off!"

The girl's eyes grew quite wide.

Dippet rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Mr. Crouch, return to your dormitory immediately. I will see you in my office first thing in the morning. Master Dumbledore, why are you still here? Mr. Riddle, I cannot begin to express to you how disappointed I am in your conduct. I can assure you, there will be fallout from this evening."

Master Kettleburn tried to escort the girl back to her own rooms, but she attempted to resist him. "I want to sleep with my Tom. I do not like to sleep alone."

"Outrageous! Simply outrageous!"

Kettleburn attempted to side with the girl. "Armando, I tried to tell you before, she is too young to be left alone all night."

Rather than continue the discussion, Dippet acquiesced. "Fine. Robert, I take it there is an opening in the first year girl's dormitory?"

At Binns' nod Dippet stepped forward to personally ensure the girl ended up there. Grabbing hold of her wrist, he attempted to lead her away.

"I am not tired. I want to stay here with my Tom."

"Certainly not. I will put an end to this nonsense once and for all."

Reaching into the folds of his robes, Dippet extracted a vial. The girl attempted to move away, but he persisted until he succeeded in getting her to drink half. Immediately the girl lost consciousness. Still grasping her by the wrist, Dippet held her up.

He handed the remainder of the vial to a gap mouthed Master Binns. "You will administer a sleeping draught to her every evening at eight o'clock. Half of one of those vials should be more than sufficient to keep her asleep until morning. Tomorrow I will speak to Master Pomfrey regarding the regular brewing of a supply for her. That should preclude anymore of these midnight wanderings."

_tbc_


	45. Chapter 45

_Chapter 45_

_A/N Thank you Maria for taking the time to beta this._

_Not all the information about the dietary habits of snakes as supplied by Binns is entirely accurate. What is important is that Kitten doesn't know any better. The same can be said about a lot of things Kitten has been told in the last few chapters or is going to be told in the next few chapters._

Entering the Slytherin common room just before the end of breakfast, Armando Dippet found both Mr. Riddle and Master Binns glaring at each other in the corridor outside the girl's dormitories. Mr. Riddle's presence was easily explained, as barriers existed to prevent male students from venturing into the rooms, however as a staff member Master Binns would not have been similarly detained.

Last night before himself retiring, Dippet had given the matter much consideration. After discovering that Mr. Riddle had defied his directive, and in continuing to allow the girl to sleep with him had left her exposed to such a potentially corrupting experience like last night's, Dippet began to fear his earlier faith in Mr. Riddle may have been misplaced. Besides, in all the time she had been under Mr. Riddle's influence, Dippet had not seen the slightest alteration to the future events he dreaded.

"Mr. Riddle, you are excused. Your presence is no longer required here."

"Sir, about last night, I can explain-"

"I am sure you can, Mr. Riddle, but I have no interest in hearing it. I no longer believe it is in the girl's best interest to be left under your tutelage."

"Sir-"

"You are dismissed, Mr. Riddle."

Though he had noticed Binns' antics, the way he kept alternatively sticking his tongue out and snapping his teeth at Riddle, Dippet chose not to address it until Binns mistakenly combined the two and in the process bit his own tongue.

"Robert, why are you here?"

Holding his tongue, Binns responded. "'ell, I 'anted to 'alk 'ith you about 'iss 'Grin'el'ald."

"Well talk to me when I can actually understand what it is that you are saying. I assume by now all the other girls are out of the dormitory?"

At Binns' nod Dippet went to find the girl. Much as he had expected, she was still precisely where he had left her. Given the strength of the sleeping draught he had given her, she hadn't even shifted in her slumber.

"Miss Grindelwald, wake up."

Perhaps a less potent potion or a lesser dosage would be in order for her. She stirred somewhat but couldn't seem to focus entirely. Dippet took out his wand. "Ennervate!"

Much as he had expected from his personal experiences having difficulty awaking after a strong sleeping potion, the spell had the desired effect on the girl. She was immediately completely awake, but the sudden shift had somewhat disoriented her. He took the opportunity to get her to drink the first of her two daily mandrake potions.

"Today I will pair you with one of the Slytherin first years and you can go to the same classes as her. However it is very important for you to remember you cannot touch anyone. Do you understand that? Do not touch any of the other children."

"Where is my Tom?"

The girl did not yet seem to have oriented herself to what was going on, and this was very important so he repeated his instructions. "You must not touch the other children. It isn't good for you to touch people."

Transfiguring her nightdress into day robes, to be clear she understood he asked her to repeat what he had just said.

The girl questioningly paraphrased him. "Touching people is bad?"

It wasn't really as if her touch was in any way harmful to others, but trying to explain things more precisely to her could prove to be rather complicated, so Dippet nodded. "Now it is time to go to the Great Hall for breakfast."

"Where is my Tom?"

"You are not to see Mr. Riddle anymore. When we get to the Great Hall we are going to find you a nice Slytherin girl to accompany to classes."

Binns was still waiting in the common room with other ideas. "Headmaster, I have been thinking and as Head of the girl's house she should be my responsibility. Allow me to handle the matter."

Dippet immediately became suspicious. When had Robert Binns ever volunteered for anything?

"Really Armando, leave Miss Grindelwald with me and I will arrange everything. I already dine with her, I can easily ensure she arrives to all of her classes in a timely fashion. I will even escort her to your office for tea in the afternoon."

Dippet knew with this ever oh so helpful façade that Binns had to be up to something . In an attempt to shake him of it, he pointed out a few of the tasks that he believed to be insurmountable hurdles for Binns. "You are also willing to ensure she has nightly baths and go into the girl's dormitory to put her in her bed at eight every night?"

Surprisingly, after his look of utmost horror faded, Master Binns agreed.

Dippet had two reasons for not wishing to allow Master Binns to have that much contact with the girl. First of all, Binns knew a great deal about Wizarding history in general and certainly Themises in particular. While the girl did not do it constantly, Binns was the only one at the castle that Dippet really needed to fear immediately realizing what was going on were he to touch the girl while she was 'projecting'.

Secondly, there was the matter of his Visions. He had had Visions of Master Binns' death for some time now. Like all of his Visions, this Vision was fragmented, not entirely clear. Still, he was most certain that the girl was to be the cause of it. While in his Visions of the havoc she would reek as an adult the castle appeared slightly altered and its inhabitants were unrecognizable to him, the people that populated and the circumstances surrounding his Visions of Binns' demise were already present. In fact a number of the people he Saw in that Vision were seventh year students and would only be present at the castle for a few more weeks.

Dippet suppressed a sigh. Trying to thwart the plans of destiny was difficult and thus far he had had no success. Perhaps the answer, perhaps the best way to change it was to play into it. Rather than try to entirely change events that you know are to happen, work with the inevitable and by making minor changes seek to change the final outcome.

Moreover, wasn't it only fair to allow Binns a chance to have an effect on his own fate?

In the end, with a firm warning to keep an eye on the girl, Dippet decided to let Binns have his way. He handed to him a copy of the first year Slytherin timetable.

"You have to keep a sharp eye on her when you are around her, Robert. She may not really mean any harm, but she doesn't think the way we do. At all times when you are around her just try to be aware of what she is doing. Try to keep a step ahead of her. Look for the signs and try to head off the worst before it can happen."

With a not at all certain feeling, Dippet left the girl in Binns' keep.

############################################

Robert Binns could have done a dance of glee watching the Headmaster walk out the entrance to the Slytherin dormitories. He would show Tom Riddle that Robert Binns was not a wizard to be trifled with.

"Come along Miss Grindelwald. Breakfast is nearly over, we must hurry!"

He noticed the way she peeked around the corners of the stone door before exiting the Slytherin common room but didn't comment. It wasn't until after she had repeated the action at the first three turns they came to that his curiosity got the better of him.

"Why are you checking the hallways?"

Her response was immediate. "No reason."

"Well if you are doing it for no reason than stop doing it. We need to hurry or breakfast will be over before we get there."

Ignoring him, she repeated the action at the next turn.

"Miss Grindelwald, what are you doing? Are you expecting someone?"

Not nearly so quickly as before she answered him. "Do you think…the snog from last night…is it still around?"

This was an awkward situation. Tom Riddle would be made to suffer for it. "Miss Grindelwald, I assure you, you have nothing to fear. You are much too young to need to be worried about snogs yet."

The girl did not look at all convinced.

Robert Binns had studied the past all of his life. He was quite familiar with the history of Wizardkind. Over the years, he had amassed a large repository of knowledge about many things of ancient origin, including Purebloods and Themises. He was not wholly unknowing of the consequences of their sometimes dangerously undiluted powers. Especially the children with their very vibrant young imaginations.

His choice of response to the girl's question last night had perhaps been a poor one. However, even from the worst of situations, often there was some good that could arise. He tried to make his voice as reassuring and as convincing as he could.

"Really, Miss Mc-Grindelwald, you have nothing to fear. The snog attack of Mr. Crouch last night was a very unusual occurrence. Normally, snogs prefer to attack Ravenclaws." Binns nodded knowingly. "Yes, usually they attack Ravenclaws. And even then they mostly prefer older Ravenclaws. Particularly those that have been aged over a hundred years, like Professor Shackleton."

Binns checked to make sure the girl was listening carefully before continuing. "Yes, why I expect if the snog from last night is still loose somewhere in the castle, when it gets hungry again, which will be quite soon I am sure, it will go looking for Professor Shackleton."

Without further delay, they walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall. However, standing outside the Great Hall listening, Binns decided it might be better just this once to skip breakfast.

"-Someone stun it!"

"-What is it doing to Professor Shackleton?"

Looking at the timetable the Headmaster had handed him, Binns smiled. He doubted there would be any Defense Against the Dark Arts classes today and certainly not any this morning.

"-What is that thing?"

"-Look at all the legs!"

He looked at the other classes listed for the week. Transfiguration which Miss Grindelwald was still excused from. Herbology, which besides being pointless, he had no intention of sending her to. Playing with dirt and mud were not things he wanted her to be doing if he was going to be responsible for making sure she stayed clean. Professor Pomfrey had been back for a while now, but Binns was of the opinion that the way the Headmaster kept feeding them to her, the girl already had more than enough exposure to potions. Charms was just silly wand waving.

"-Forget the legs, what is on the end of them?"

"-Where did it come from?"

No, the only really useful class on her schedule was History of Magic. Granted, he was planning to give the same lecture all day to all seven years of classes, but a very thorough understanding of that material would be of far more use than anything she could learn in her other classes. He would just keep her with him all day.

"-I don't know it just sort of appeared and went straight to Professor Shackleton!"

"-Is he dead?"

He could tell already, this was to be the beginning of a magnificent friendship.

Robert Binns had been beginning to grow worried about possible lingering aftereffects from the sleeping potion the Headmaster had given Miss Grindelwald; she had spent the entire morning sleeping in his classroom. However now that they were entering the Great Hall for lunch, she had finally perked up a bit. Unfortunately, in her case that meant she had become argumentative.

Looking up at the banner over the Slytherin table, she made an announcement. "We always sit at _that_ table. Today, we should sit at a different table. Maybe the badger table or the eagle table?"

Binns was thankful that she at least no longer seemed to favor the Gryffindor table. She had even gone so far as to hiss at a student's cat as they had passed it in the hallway, but her lack of House spirit was still alarming.

"Nonsense! We sit at the snake table!"

Miss Grindelwald began chewing on her lip. "I do not care for snakes."

This was an outrage! "The serpent was chosen as the Slytherin mascot by Hogwarts founder, Salazar Slytherin himself! It is the very same emblem that was once found on the Slytherin family coat of arms!"

"What is so wonderful about a snake?"

"What an absurd question! Snakes are…are…well…they can swallow and digest things far greater than their own size!"

Seeing the girl's eyes widen in awe, Binns pressed his point. "Can you do that? I think not!"

Sitting down, Binns smirked to see Mr. Riddle immediately approach. Riddle spoke a greeting to the girl before addressing him.

"Professor Binns, I wanted to apologize to you for the misunderstanding last night. I hope there aren't to be any hard feelings between us."

"No, no of course not my dear boy! Hard feelings? Never! Apology accepted. By all means sit down and have lunch with Miss Grindelwald and myself."

Watching the tension leave Riddle's body as he began to sit down, Binns snorted. Clearly the boy didn't understand sarcasm. "Move along, Mr. Riddle. You are not welcome here."

"But, you said-"

"-I lied, Mr. Riddle. I _am_ a liar, remember?"

Binns had to struggle very hard not to burst into laughter seeing the look of pure rage that transfixed Mr. Riddle's face. Oh revenge could be so sweet. Hiding his smile behind the newspaper he had not been at breakfast to read, Binns insisted.

"Move along, Mr. Riddle."

When his eyes actually focused on the back page of the paper, he saw the schedule for this afternoon's Quidditch match. Looking at the girl and the paper and then back at the girl, he had an idea.

Miss Grindelwald was a very gifted Seer

The Headmaster was always going on about how it was unscrupulous to use the ability of Prognostication for personal gain and certainly Binns knew it was wrong to exploit children, but…he really should try to engage her in some sort of conversation while they were just sitting there.

"I say, who do you think will take the League Championship this year?"

The girl wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I do not like lunch. Breakfast has bacon and dinner has dessert, but lunch is just sandwiches or st-_eww."_

That was all well and true, but that wasn't the answer to his question. "Yes, but what about the League match?"

Dejectedly, she rested her head on folded arms. "I do not like sandwiches. I wish they would serve candy at lunch."

Binns eyed Miss Grindelwald a moment. So _that_ was the way it was going to be. He conjured before her a large dish of granulated sugar. "Why not try a sugar sandwich?"

Her eyes lit up.

"Now tell me, do you like the Chudley Cannons or the Ballycastle Bats?"

Scraping the tuna fish filling off of a piece of bread and instead pouring sugar onto it, she shook her head. "I do not like bats."

"So you would go with the Chudley Cannons?"

The girl shrugged as she tilted her sandwich to take a bite. Watching the sugar pour out the end Binns expressed some doubt.

"Are you certain? The Cannons haven't won the League since 1892. It's considered quite the feat that they have even made it this far. It would certainly be quite the upset if they were to win." Binns smiled thinking of the high payout that could be expected given the long odds on the Cannons winning. He would have to act quickly to put together a betting pool amongst the staff. "Are you sure it won't be the Ballycastle Bats?"

Doodling in the sugar drifts that had formed on her plate, Miss Grindelwald again shook her head. "I really do not like bats."

########################################

Albus Dumbledore turned to the professors seated beside him. "I would not leave Binns in charge of Fawkes for an afternoon and phoenixes are practically immortal. Am I the only one that gets an uneasy feeling at the idea of leaving a child in Binns' care?"

Viinder replied first. "You know, I rather get the idea Dippet is trying to kill the girl. Give it a few days and we'll find her in Binns' office crushed under a fallen stack of books just like the toad Binns used to have. Or summer vacation is only a few weeks off, maybe he'll forget her and leave her locked in his rooms over the break with no food or water like he did his cat. Which would be a painless death compared to what happened to his-"

A grimacing Kettleburn interrupted after looking at the Slytherin table. "-Please someone tell me I'm not really seeing this. He isn't really letting her eat a sugar sandwich."

Viinder laughed. "Albus, I believe we have found your one true love!"

Dumbledore frowned, very displeased with Viinder's comments.

Tofty however gave a little laugh. "Miss Grindelwald has always been rather sweet in my classes. Not sugary sweet mind you, but watching that, I'm glad she isn't in any of my classes until tomorrow."

Thankfully, Kettleburn was much more reassuring. "I will have a talk with Robert before dinner."

########################################

Robert Binns gave a cry of frustration as the Ballycastle Bats again scored. So much for Miss Grindelwald's incredibly accurate Prognostication talents! The score was now three hundred and sixty to ten with the Ballycastle Bats in the lead.

Binns thought he could hear the Riddle boy again lurking in the hallway so he threw the wizard's wireless out the open door of the Slytherin first year girl's room. Maybe he could 'accidentally' hit Mr. Riddle.

When instead Professor Kettleburn entered holding the radio in one hand and rubbing one of his shins with the other, Binns did his best to look innocent. "Professor Kettleburn, what brings you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you before dinner."

"Was Mr. Riddle still in the hall?"

"Yes, -"

"Did you kick him as you went by? You really should you know. It would be his word against yours. Go ahead, I won't tell anyone. It will be our little secret. You know us untrustworthy liars need to stick togeth-"

"-Robert!"

Binns sunk into his chair. Why were people always interrupting him?

"Robert, I want to talk to you about what you should be feeding Kitten. You cannot keep giving her so much sugar."

Giving his colleague a withering look, Binns responded in the most authoritative voice he could muster. "I understand, _Professor Kettleburn_, that you are new here and perhaps you have not yet figured out how things work. At Hogwarts, we recognize the rights of the individual. We do not tell the children what they can and cannot eat. Children know their own needs. They are capable of deciding what to eat and how much is enough. We are not the sugar aurors."

"Robert, she is eight. She has lived for the better part of her life as a cat. Do you really think she knows best?"

Binns sighed and returned to his normal more well…whiny tone. "It is all that she will eat!" Behind his back, he crossed his fingers. "I've tried taking the sugar away. I really did, but she refused to eat anything else!"

Kettleburn's casualness in responding made it seem like it were a simple problem to solve. "Then she just doesn't eat."

Binns snorted. "Oh yes, I've gone down that route before. I doubt what happens when you don't feed children is any different from when you don't feed cats…or mice…or…anyway, my point is, are you going to take responsibility for the consequences when Dippet comes by and wants to know what happened to her?"

"Robert, she won't starve to death. If she gets hungry enough, she will eat whatever you put in front of her - even if it isn't sugar."

Kettleburn looked around the room. "Where is Kitten anyway?"

"She is having her bath - in the other room - with all her clothes on - and keeping the door closed."

After Kettleburn's next few words, Binns was almost sure the Care of Magical Creatures professor was deliberately trying to cause trouble.

"Aren't you supposed to be supervising her? I mean if Kitten is 'having her bath - in the other room - with all her clothes on - and keeping the door closed' how do you know if she is alright?"

Smarmy little bastard. Binns would show him. "MARCO!"

The reply of "POLO!" immediately followed from behind the closed door.

Kettleburn laughed. "Well, you certainly seem to have thought of everything. Why don't you get her out and we can all go to dinner."

Binns began to fidget. "I'm not sure if she's quite done yet."

"How long has she been in there?"

Since his last class almost four hours ago. What she could possibly have been doing in there that long he had no interest in speculating about. "Oh, not long. Not long at all."

"It is late now. If we don't leave soon, we will miss dinner entirely."

Binns sighed. "MISS GRINDELWALD, IT'S TIME TO COME OUT NOW!"

"NO, I DO NOT WANT TO AND YOU WILL NOT COME MAKE ME!"

Binns' shoulders sagged in defeat. "She is right you know."

"Robert, you said she still has her clothes on. You don't have to be worried about seeing anything. Just go in there and get her out."

Binns was scandalized. "But now her clothes are wet. They will…cling to her…and…and…"

"Robert, she is eight. There is nothing for her clothes to cling to yet." Kettleburn seemed to find the situation entirely too amusing. "Fine, I will go get her. You and Dippet are something else. Sometimes I wonder how your generation ever managed to have children."

Entirely serious, Binns responded. "Professor Kettleburn, perhaps you missed the fact that neither the Headmaster nor myself ever did."

Though he did not want to miss dinner and he was grateful for the help, as Kettleburn headed for the door, Binns felt it necessary to share his true opinion of the other man.

"Before we go any further, I want to make one thing perfectly clear, _Professor Kettleburn_; I don't care for you and I don't care for your…_kind_. When the suggestion was made to hire you, I spoke against your appointment. As far as I am concerned your…_sort _has no place at a school and I believe you to be a degenerate influence on the children here."

Binns saw his young colleague bristle at his words. When Kettleburn replied, there was no trace of humor in the usually jovial young man. "And exactly what _sort_ might I be, _Professor Binns_?"

Binns reddened at the other man's cheek. "You know perfectly well what I am referring to."

"Yes, but I want to hear you say the word, _Professor Binns_. And while we are so openly exchanging opinions of one another, let me just say that I find it completely out of place to discover such a small mind at an institute of higher learning such as this, not to mention finding it paired with such an overly developed stomach and a complete and utter lack of -"

Binns' mouth opened. "See here now, there is no need to move to insults of such a personal nature!"

"You call that a personal nature? What about what you said about me?"

Binns' cheeks if possible turned a deeper scarlet. Apparently his young colleague was determined to make him say the word. "I find there to be something deeply disturbing about anyone who chooses to devote their life to the study of…the…_proliferation_ practices of animals."

"Oh." Kettleburn just stared at him…oddly. "Okay then. I'm going to go get Kitten out of the bath now."

Late as they were to arrive at dinner, dessert was already on the table. Robert Binns watched his younger colleague push the chocolate pudding out of Miss Grindelwald's reach and conjure a few of the entree platters back from the kitchens.

"Try some chicken or the roast."

Instead Kitten just rested her head on her folded arms. Binns gave a smirk. "I told you so!"

Kettleburn frowned. "Kitten, why aren't you eating? Don't you like chicken?"

"Yes, I do, but I like candy and dessert more so I am waiting for them."

Kettleburn shook his head. "Chicken is what we are having for dinner. You need to eat chicken or you won't get anything."

Miss McGon-Grindelwald gave him a knowing smile. "Yes, I will. If I do not eat this, I will get candy later."

"No, you won't."

"Yes, I will." Binns tried to look blameless as she pointed to him. "He will give it to me."

Binns knew that the warning in the Care of Magical Creature professor's tone was meant for him. "No, he won't."

She seemed to find his words to be either amusing or some kind of a challenge. "Yes, he will. I just have to wait him out. He is very weak; he gives in easily."

Binns' mouth gapped, but he remained silent. He didn't like to have to hear it said so bluntly, but he knew it was true.

Kettleburn shook his head, "Not this time he won't," but the girl gave a little laughed and pushed the plate away.

Kettleburn's idea was all well and fine, but he wasn't going to be the one responsible for the consequences. If the girl starved to death, it wasn't Kettleburn that everyone was going to be making snide remarks about in the faculty lounge for months to come.

Once he had her out of the Great Hall, Binns handed the girl a chocolate bar. "You must eat it quickly before anyone sees it."

By the time he got Miss Grindelwald back to her room, the Headmaster was waiting.

"Headmaster, as you can see, we are managing quite well."

Binns could see the skepticism in the other man's eyes as he went to administer the potion. "It is eight o'clock."

Binns began to protest, "Armando, do you really think that is necessary-" but it was already too late.

Dippet laid the sleeping girl on the empty bed and covered her. "Robert, it is a sleep potion. It contains no harmful ingredients and it is non-addictive. It merely induces a deep, dreamless sleep."

Watching Dippet walk out the door, Binns refrained from making a retort regarding the 'non-addictive' comment.

#######################################

Armando Dippet entered the Great Hall for breakfast with a feeling of release and happiness he had not experienced for years. At long last something had effected a change upon the girl.

He had had a new Vision.

He still Saw the same events that were to transpire in the distant future, but something had had an effect on the more immediate events. For some time now Dippet had had Visions of what he believed to be the death of Robert Binns. But now he had a new Vision; his new Vision showed Binns still teaching next year.

#########################################

"Come along, come along! We mustn't keep Professor…Professor…stop your dawdling and come along!"

Leaving afternoon tea with the Headmaster, Robert Binns was in a hurry to deliver Miss Grindelwald to her rooms. The Care of Magical Creatures Professor had offered to supervise the girl's bath today and was waiting for her there.

Personally, Binns found his young colleague distasteful and a potentially harmful influence on the girl. Anyone who made their living watching animals…propagate was not the sort that Binns believed belonged around small children. For the last century whenever the need had arisen to refill that staff position, Binns had proposed eliminating it from the curriculum. Perhaps if he had not made that same suggestion for just about every vacancy that occurred at the school, more weight might have been given to his proposal.

Regardless, the Headmaster had approved both the idea of hiring the young professor and allowing him to supervise the girl's bath. As much as Binns disliked his young colleague, he wasn't entirely upset at the prospect of a free afternoon. Unless he could think of a way to get out of paying his debts, he needed to pay a visit to Gringotts. Thanks to Miss Grindelwald's 'spectacular' Prognostication skills, he currently owed some forty plus galleons to various faculty members.

"Come along!"

"I do not want to walk. You should carry me."

Binns snorted. "Certainly not! Do you have any idea how old I am? You should be carrying me!"

That quieted her, but only for a minute. As they continued walking, she tried again. "I _really_ think you should carry me."

"And I _really_ think you should carry -" Binns broke off as he saw Mr. Riddle watching them. "All right, I will carry you."

Sneering at Mr. Riddle, Binns reached down to pick up the girl. When one of her hands went round his neck he felt an odd, not quite smarting sensation. His shock was so great that he immediately released her.

"Ow! You dropped me! You were not supposed to drop me!"

Mr. Riddle ran over to pick up the girl. "What did you do that for, you oaf!"

"My Tom never drops me!"

Entirely forgetting his plans to punish Mr. Riddle by keeping Miss Grindelwald away from him, Binns abandoned the girl and sprinted - well walked spiritedly - back to the Headmaster's office. He had to tell Dippet - the girl wasn't a Seer, she was a Foci!

Why hadn't he realized it before! He knew all about true Purebloods and the by far greater frequencies at which they used to possess some abilities that were nowadays found only extremely rarely in the Wizarding population at random. Themises, having still retained their pure bloodedness, frequently had it expressed in, to name just a few abilities, talents in Prognostication, innate skill at Legilimency or Occlumency, or less commonly as Parseltongues or Metamorphmaguses, and the rarest of the rare, Foci.

A Foci! Oh why hadn't he seen it before! Certainly it explained why Jupiter Grindelwald had managed to keep making successful predictions after the end of his marriage bond to Artemisia Themis. The girl was not the one supplying the Visions, but she had been furnishing Grindelwald with the power to improve upon his own rather unspectacular Divination abilities.

Galloping Gargoyles! The mere touch of a Foci while they were 'expressing' could temporarily purify and improve upon a witch or wizard's own natural powers and abilities, but what about all the biting and scratching the girl had been doing! While the improvements caused by simply having physical contact with a Foci were temporary, the effects of a Foci biting or scratching were even more lasting than those of a vampire or werewolf. Vampires and werewolves could only reproduce through biting or scratching, but a Foci's attacks could not only permanently enhanced a witch or wizard's magical abilities, it could also be passed on within a family for generations. Why there were even stories describing non-magical folks being embedded or infected with magical abilities if exposed frequently.

Remembering how thoroughly the girl had scratched Mephistopheles Malfoy, Binns realized it would be quite a few generations before the Malfoy family would again have to worry about producing squibs!

Throwing open the door to the Headmaster's office, Binns tried to catch his breath.

#####################################

Armando Dippet looked up in alarm at the disheveled sight of his History of Magic Master. His alarm grew as Master Binns began to gasp out a few words.

"Armando…the girl…I touched her…burn-"

Having foreseen the possibility of such a problem developing, Dippet was quick to interrupt. "Quiet! Someone might hear you. Think of the consequences, you mustn't let it be known. Robert, you are one of them."

Binns stopped short. "One…of them?"

Dippet nodded. "You said it yourself, you touched the girl and felt burning. You must be related to her. You are a Themis."

Binns gasped and his eyes widened in shock. "Oh my!"

Dippet watched Binns back out the door, repeating over and over, "Oh my!" Binns never had been particularly sharp.

#####################################

Standing in his bed chamber, Robert Binns looked into his full length mirror. He closed his eyes and his face took on a strained expression as he concentrated with all his might. While he hadn't succeeded in making himself completely disappear, when he opened his eyes and looking down at his hand, he was absolutely certain that the edge of his hand had begun to blur.

To think, all this time he was a Themis and he never realized! He shuddered to think of all the years he had wasted as a piddling History of Magic instructor. But now, now he knew the truth and he had years of injustices to make up for. It was up to him, Robert Themis Binns, to avenge all the egregious wrongs that had been done to the Themis line throughout the centuries.

But first, he would need to discover and hone his new skills. And there were a few small injustices to take care of here at Hogwarts.

Sitting in the faculty lounge, Robert Binns closed his eyes and focused all his concentration on Shackleton. In his mind's eye, he envisioned the other man exploding in a burst of flames. Opening his eyes, he gave a sigh of disappointment to discover Shackleton still alive and well. Still his efforts must be having some effect, Shackleton was staring at him.

"Robert, what are you doing?"

Binns smiled. "Never you mind. Go back to reading your papers."

Hearing the door open, Binns tried to predict who it would be without turning to look. Hearing the voices of Dumbledore and Pomfrey, instead of the Headmaster, Binns thought it safe to assume Prognostication was not his skill.

"For the last time, I do not know how to make a sorcerer's stone. Nicholas Flamel never told me."

"Come on, Dumbledore, just tell me how! I can make one and we can share the gold fifty-fifty."

"Valhala, I dedicated years of my life to the study of Alchemy and Potion mixing. Before the Transfiguration spot opened up, I was the Potion Master at this school for almost a decade. Why ever would I tell you how to make a stone in exchange for half the gold when I could just make one myself and keep all the money?"

"Aha! So you admit, you do know how to make one!"

Seeing Dumbledore's annoyed expression, Pomfrey finally gave up on the topic of Alchemy. "Did I tell you about the healer I met while I was at St. Mungo's?"

Apparently, Dumbledore was not the only one to have had enough. As Pomfrey began to use his hands to make squiggly…woman shapes in the air, Shackleton snapped at him. "You met a woman. We get it!"

Binns lost his concentration as Shackleton turned his ire on him. "And you, what are you trying to do over there?"

Snickering at the welts still visible on his 'superior's' face, Binns replied. "Not doing nothing."

Shackleton scowled. "I may not be able to prove it _yet_, but I know it was you that put the girl up to setting that _thing_ on me. You wait, Robert, just you wait. Yours is coming. I will find proof and when I do, Dippet will dismiss you."

Binns snorted. "Armando Dippet never fired anyone in his life and he never will." In his best impression of the Headmaster's voice, Binns went on to say, "It might 'adversely effect the future!'"

Knowing it was true, Shackleton just continued to scowl.

As the Headmaster and Professor Viinder entered the room, the Herbology professor, Archie tried to change the topic.

"Binns I believe you owe me five galleons from yesterday's match."

Still concentrating on Shackleton, Binns grinned. "I can pay you five galleons or if you prefer, we can go double or nothing. I've decided to start a new betting pool, a death pool. I've already taken Shackleton as my choice, but who do you think Miss Grindelwald will kill first?"

Binns expected a possible reprimand from the Headmaster, but he felt it was worth it to see the look of outrage on Shackleton's face.

Dippet did frown, but it was Professor Viinder who replied first. "What is the maximum bet we can put down? Whatever it is, I want to put it down on you, Binns."

Dippet's frown deepened, but it was nothing like Binns' own. "If you aren't interested in participating you don't have to. There is no need to be rude about it!"

As Dippet motioned Professor Viinder out of the faculty room door, Professor Archie began to question the system of the betting pool. "Is it limited to staff and students or can I pick that Ministry fellow?"

"That's ridiculous. Just because she was born a Themis doesn't _mean_ she is predisposed to violence." Binns wasn't the only one to snort in response to Dumbledore's attempt at a defense of the girl.

Shackleton sounded exasperated. "Come off it, Dumbledore. She made a hippogriff attack Kettleburn, set a…a 'snog' on me, tore the nose right off of one student, killed a puffskein, and Tofty won't admit it, but I am convinced she was the one that set fire to his classroom. Her behavior is escalating. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if she were to kill someone."

Listening to Shackleton, Binns smiled. So long as the girl was around, he had carte blanche to do anything he wanted; everyone would simply assume she was the one responsible. Sitting back, he began to ponder the possibilities.

#######################################

Troubled, Armando Dippet beckoned his Divination Master out into the hall.

"What you said to Binns, was that something you Saw in a Vision?"

Eres Viinder waved a hand dismissively. "Not to worry, Binns didn't believe me. They never do."

"So you did have a Vision regarding Robert?"

Viinder shrugged. "Between you and me, let's just say I will be taking my meals in my rooms instead of the Great Hall for the next few weeks.

Watching Viinder walk away, Dippet was feeling most unsettled. But perhaps Viinder had not yet had a chance to see the altered future. After all, it was just this morning that Dippet had Seen it

########################################

Robert Binns grimaced as the Headmaster entered the room, as always carrying a sleeping potion.

"Where is Miss Grindelwald?"

"She is in the _other_ room brushing her teeth." Eyeing the vial, Binns held out his hand. "Leave it with me. When she comes out, I will make certain she takes it."

Dippet looked hesitant, but in the end he relented. Before leaving, he warned, "Make certain she drinks all of it. It wouldn't do to have it wearing off in the middle of the night."

Binns removed the stopper from the vial. Just the fumes were making him feel lightheaded. Binns knew he was not the most observant person in the world, but having been at Hogwarts as long as he had, even he couldn't help eventually picking up on a few details that the more casual observer might have overlooked. While it was bad enough that the Headmaster was a potion addict, that was Dippet's own business. Binns was never one to get involved in other people's concerns; eavesdrop on or gossip about certainly, but actually get involved, no. However, even Binns had to draw the line at getting an eight year old addicted to potions. He really would have thought that perhaps Dippet might have learned that they were not the answer to everything from his experiences with the girl's mother.

Binns emptied the vial's contents into the fireplace as Miss Grindelwald reentered the room.

"All right off to bed you go."

"I am not tired. Do you know any games?"

"Certainly I do. There is one that I am particularly fond of called 'Go to Bed Right Now!'"

Binns sighed as the girl began to stall. "You haven't told me a story."

"Lies! I told you lots of stories today during class."

The girl made a face as she realized he was right. "Well…maybe you should sing to me."

"Sing? I think we best not go down that path! Now go to sleep."

"I want to sleep with my Tom."

Binns shook his head. "Out of the question! Young ladies sleep in their own room-well a room they share with three other young ladies, but you get the idea."

The girl tried a different angle. "I want to sleep upstairs with the other cats."

Binns sighed and pointed to an empty bed. "Little girls sleep in the beds they are assigned to sleep in."

As soon as she was on the bed, Binns pulled the bed covers over the young girl in what he hoped was an adequately reassuring manner. Wide eyed, the girl looked at the canopy over her head and then looked down to something slightly above his shoulder.

Rather hesitantly, she asked, "Do snakes eat kittens?"

"What an absurd question. Of course they do. Some types of snakes will eat all manner of small creatures - kittens, mice, frogs, rabbits, squirrels…"

"Do they eat badgers?"

She certainly had an inquisitive mind. Binns despised inquisitive minds. In his classes, he highly discouraged the asking of questions. It disrupted the flow of his thoughts. "Certainly. They are small enough. Snakes can unhinge their jaws in order to swallow and digest things far greater than their own size."

"Do they eat eagles?"

Binns sighed. The girl's stalling had really gone on long enough. "Yes, they eat eagles - well at least their eggs. They will eat anything smaller than…than…a lion. Now go to sleep or we will need to see Professor Pomfrey for a sleep potion!"

Turning to go out the door, Binns stopped suddenly as he realized what it was the girl had been staring at over his shoulder. All along the decorative trim of the room, miniatures of the house mascot could be seen coiling and slithering about. Many of the student dormitories were decorated as such with their particular house mascot. Binns had never really considered it before, but now looking around the room, he found the Slytherin dormitory rather discomforting. Between the trim, additional snakes carved into the wood of the four post bed and the fact that none of the other students were yet in the room, even he wouldn't want to stay here awake and alone.

Maybe telling the small girl that snakes would eat anything smaller than a lion hadn't been such a good idea.

Kettleburn had cast a spell to remove all the little serpents from the Head Girl's room before Miss Grindelwald had been escorted to it. Though he was loathe to admit it, there was a reason why he taught History of Magic rather than one of the more applied magics. While Kettleburn had been able to remove them all with a few castings, Binns knew he would need to cast the spell for each one individually. Binns frowned considering how very many of them there were scattered about the room. No, it really entailed far too much effort for him to become involved with it.

Still, turning back to the sight of the girl's unsettled gray eyes, his resolve softened. Perhaps a compromise of sorts was in order.

"Would you like to hear tomorrow's History of Magic lecture tonight?"

Without waiting for her response, he began his recitation. Less than two minutes later, he was able to exit the sleeping girl's chamber .

A little later while passing through the Slytherin Common room, Robert Binns took the extra time necessary to walk by Mr. Riddle. Pausing to stick his tongue out at the Head Boy, Binns ignored the odd look from Miss Pritchard, one of the Slytherin first year girls as she left the room.

"Robert, what are you doing?"

Hearing Dumbledore's voice, Binns turned. He was moving closer, planning to ask exactly what Dumbledore was doing in the Slytherin Common room and why exactly he would care about what was done to Tom Riddle when a scream interrupted his thoughts. Screaming was not at all a good thing. Even without going to look, he was entirely sure that the screaming was coming from a certain Slytherin first year girl's room.

Apparently Dumbledore and Mr. Riddle were of the same opinion, both bolted down the hall. Quite reluctant to follow after, Binns gave a sigh as the screaming continued.

He didn't know what had happened yet and he wasn't sure how, but he was quite certain that somehow, someway, what ever happened, he would get blamed for it.

#####################################

When Albus Dumbledore pushed Miss Pritchard out of the way, she stopped screaming. He had moved her with the intention of entering the room, but stopped short at the sight before him. Dozens of snakes were moving around the bedchamber. A quick glance at the walls showed numerous bare spots where engravings had once been. Miss Grindelwald certainly seemed to have a talent at transfiguration. She had apparently changed the etchings to real snakes in her sleep.

Looking at the only occupied bed, Dumbledore pulled out his wand. Most of the snakes had begun to slither towards the bed and a few were already on it. Miss Grindelwald was sitting on the bed, too terrified to make a sound or move. Two of the snakes that were already on the bed looked quite ready to strike.

Quietly, trying not to startle any of the serpents, Dumbledore spoke. "Accio Minerva!" The spell had no effect so he tried again.

Riddle also had his wand out, but he wasn't trying any incantations. The boy was making sounds, but they weren't words. At first Dumbledore thought the boy was too frightened to think coherently, but as several of the snakes turned to face the door, he realized Riddle was talking to them and at least some were listening. Riddle was a Parseltongue.

"Accio Miss Grindelwald!" Still the spell had no effect.

At Tom's direction, most of the snakes backed away from Minerva, but the one closest still seemed to be contemplating a strike. In a fit of desperation Dumbledore tried the Accio spell again, but in a slightly different way.

"Accio Kitten!"

It was the first time he fully appreciated the magic in a name. The power in the telling, in the being told, in the knowing, and in the believing.

Kitten flew through the air towards him to the great anger of the serpent that had been delayed from striking by Riddle's parseltongue ability. Dumbledore wrapped his arms around her heavily shaking form, trying to comfort her.

"It's all right. You're safe now."

Tom tried to pull the girl away, but she was still terrified and would not relinquish her grasp on Dumbledore. "Kitten, come to me. The snakes listen to me, they won't hurt you, I can control them. There is nothing to be frightened of."

Still trembling, Kitten loudly responded. "I am not afraid of snakes!" Quite a bit quieter, she continued to lie. "I just do not like them."

Headmaster Dippet appeared, having apparently been notified of the commotion. "What is going on now? Dumbledore you put her down this instant!"

Seeing Kitten peek over Dumbledore's shoulder, Dippet seemed to grow incensed. He turned to Binns who despite having been in the Common room when it all started, was only just arriving. "Why is she awake?"

Dumbledore started to explain but was quickly interrupted by several people. "Kitten must have had a strong dream or in some way -"

"Dream? She shouldn't have been having any dreams!"

"He said snakes devour and digest little kittens whole!"

In a single breath, Binns managed to both deny and admit to the accusation. "Lies! Nobody likes a tattletale!"

Himself now incensed, Dumbledore had had more than enough. "Robert, you told her that! What is wrong with you! Have you no common sense?" Turning to Dippet, Dumbledore was about to begin to demand some sort of change in the girl's supervision when Kitten settled the matter herself.

"I do not like snakes. I want to go live with the lions!"

Tom was beside himself with indignation and Dippet opposed the idea, but Dumbledore found it to be a marvelous solution.

"Kitten, no! The snakes won't hurt you. I can control them; they listen to me."

"Dumbledore, you put her down this instant!"

With the Headmaster following on his heels, protesting the whole way, Dumbledore carried Kitten Grindelwald out of the dungeons and up to Gryffindor Tower.

###################################

Robert Binns peeked into the room at all the snakes. He might be a Slytherin, but he had no desire to spend time with real snakes.

"Mr. Riddle, as Head Boy, I believe you are capable of handling the clean up."

As he tried to make his escape, Riddle stopped him. "Sir, since I no longer have my familiar, would it be alright if I were to keep one of the snakes as a pet?"

Binns wrinkled his nose in disgust. He did want any of those things kept around. "Certainly not!"

####################################

Entering the Gryffindor Head Girl's room, Albus Dumbledore set the girl on the bed. With one wave of his wand, he banished from the room all the dust, doxies, furniture coverings, and wall etchings.

Now that she was away from the dungeons, much of the girl's usual confidence was restored. "Wait, bring back the lions!"

Given what he had just witnessed downstairs, Dumbledore shook his head. He really didn't think that was such a good idea.

Kitten frowned for but a moment before moving her attention on. "I need more pillows. Please."

Dumbledore found the request slightly suspicious as there were already two perfectly good pillows on the bed. "What for?"

Her shrug was entirely unreassuring. Still, he couldn't see any harm in giving them to her.

"Is there anything else you need?"

After Kitten shook her head, Dumbledore smiled. "Welcome to Gryffindor House, Miss Grindelwald."

tbc


	46. Chapter 46

_Chapter 46_

_Thank you, thank you Maria for taking the time to beta this!_

_Also thanks LinZE for taking the time to answer a few Brit questions for me._

_All the names of famous witches were pulled from the Lexicon. You don't need to know their background to understand the story, but if you are interested check them out under the famous people/chocolate frog card section._

_Elfric the Eager was a goblin that led a few uprisings against Wizards._

Making his way to the Gryffindor common room to wake Miss Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore was not entirely surprised both to find Dippet also on his way there and to find the Headmaster arguing with the painting guarding the entrance.

"Get back you scurvy braggart!"

"I am the Headmaster of this school! You will open before me!"

"You cannot force your way to the chambers within!"

"I repeated the very same password that Miss Meadowes just gave you!"

"Yes…well…there is a new password now…to…keep out scurvy dogs like you!"

As amusing as this was, Dumbledore made his presence known. "Headmaster, perhaps you might reconsider my request to change portraits?"

"Traitor!"

Dippet looked sorely tempted, but in the end refused. "This painting has hung here since before you were a student and it will remain here long after we are all gone. There is something to be said for tradition, Master Dumbledore, for keeping things as they once were."

Seeing the direction where this was headed, before the Headmaster could again take up the argument from last night, Dumbledore restated his own position.

"Headmaster, Miss Grindelwald has made it quite clear she would prefer to be in Gryffindor House. I do respect the Sorting Hat and the traditions behind it, however I believe it is our choices that show what we truly are. A student should have a greater say in defining who they are or wish to be than a Hat, even if the Hat in question did once belong to Godric Gryffindor."

Dippet frowned, but apparently having had enough of 'discussing' the matter last night offered a compromise of sorts. "So am I to understand that were she to elect to return to Slytherin you would make no further issue of the matter?"

Dumbledore agreed. "Were she to _freely_ elect to yes, but I don't find that to be a likely-"

Still frowning, Dippet interrupted. "-For the time being, she will continue to take meals and classes with the Slytherin students. Binns will continue to supervise her during meal times and baths. I have requested one of your prefects, Miss Meadowes, to awaken and escort her down to the Great Hall. You may go on about your regular business, Master Dumbledore."

Choosing for the moment to accept an incomplete victory, Dumbledore nodded. As the Headmaster headed towards the Great Hall, Dumbledore made his way back to his own chambers to gather what papers he would need for the day.

Before he could even get halfway to his rooms, a very disturbed Miss Meadowes came running after him. The girl had her head turned to look over her shoulder and literally collided with him. As he helped Miss Meadowes back to her feet, she managed to get out a few very frightened words.

"Professor, the Headmaster, he said to go into _her _room and bring her down to the Great Hall. I knocked, but when I opened the door-" Miss Meadowes shuddered.

Without bothering to wait for the rest, Dumbledore doubled back to the entrance to the Gryffindor dormitories. Though because of security concerns he normally took points for doing it, he was for once grateful to see a student had wedged something in the way to prevent the portrait from swinging fully closed and locking out all the students, Gryffindor or otherwise.

"Come back here! That's not a very Knightly way to go about getting in!"

Ignoring Sir Cadogan, Dumbledore rushed to the Gryffindor Head Girl's room and threw open the door.

Littered all across the floor were sleeping lions and lionesses. From where he was still standing in the doorway it took him a moment to locate Miss Grindelwald. She was asleep in the exact spot where he had left her last night. Only, last night he had left her surrounded by a pile of fluffy pillows and this morning the pillows had been replaced by an assortment of young cubs.

Remembering how she had been unhappy with him for removing the etchings and the slightly suspicious way in which she had immediately requested the pillows, it seemed clear that this time the girl had done the transfiguration intentionally and was in control of her creations. Gathering his wits and courage, Dumbledore cleared his throat before speaking. "Miss Grindelwald, it is time to wake up."

Without even opening her eyes, 'Kitten' groggily replied. Because she was half buried, her voice was somewhat muffled. "I am still sleepy."

Dumbledore tried to be insistent. "Tonight we will make sure you go to bed a little earlier, but it is time to wake up."

That got no response from the girl, but one of the lions on the floor stood and stretched. When it opened its mouth, Dumbledore wasn't clear if it was meant as a yawn or a threatening roar. Either way, he wanted to make it clear to Miss Grindelwald from the start that he was not a pushover like Binns. Pointing his wand at it he spoke.

"Finite Incantatem!"

Rather than having the desired effect of reverting the lion back to a pillow, the spell served only to infuriate both the lion and the girl. The lion roared angrily while Miss Grindelwald, finally opening her eyes, sat up to reprimand him. "That is _not _nice! If you cannot play nicely, I think you should leave."

No, it seemed very clear the girl was in control of her creations. Dumbledore barely managed to get the door closed in time to avoid the lion's charge. As the lion continued trying to claw its way through the door, Miss Grindelwald gave her final thoughts on the matter. "It is _not_ wake up time."

Dumbledore sighed. So much for showing her who was in charge.

#####################################

Armando Dippet was beside himself. This was turning into an unmitigated disaster. There remained only one thing left for him to do. He went to speak to Mr. Riddle.

"Mr. Riddle, you have my permission to again associate yourself with Miss Grindelwald."

Looking directly at Mr. Riddle, attempting to convey the enormity of the situation at hand, Dippet continued speaking.

"Mr. Riddle, you _must_ find a way to convince Miss Grindelwald to again change Houses. It is of the utmost importance. We _must _get her away from Master Dumbledore immediately"

######################################

Kevric Kettleburn stopped Tom on his way into the Great Hall for lunch. If he were asked again, he could no longer honestly disagree with Dumbledore's concerns about Tom being a poor influence on Kitten. However, anyone else's influence had to be an improvement over Binns'.

"Tom, no matter what do not let Kitten eat any candy or sweets until she has eaten something more substantial first. Now, I realize candy is all she wants to eat. There may be a few days of her not eating anything at all, but so be it."

Seeing Tom's alarmed expression at the request to stop feeding Kitten, Kevric tried to reassure the boy and explain his reasoning.

"It may seem cruel to do but it is for her own good. Kitten is extremely willful, but not to worry, she isn't foolish enough to starve herself to death. When she gets hungry enough, she will give in and eat whatever we put in front of her, even if it isn't candy. She needs to learn she can't always have her way."

Tom frowned, obviously disliking the idea. "I don't want to hurt her."

"Tom, I promise it won't hurt her. But we need to make her understand there are some things she simply cannot be allowed to do."

After that Tom nodded readily enough. "That is a very good idea, Professor Kettleburn."

In fact, Kevric got an uneasy feeling at just how eagerly Tom agreed.

######################################

Greatly interested, Robert Binns watched the scene playing out before him.

Now that Mr. Riddle was in charge, the flow of sweets to Miss Grindelwald had dried up entirely. It had taken three days without eating but it seemed that at long last Kettleburn was to be proven right.

Looking at Binns, Miss Grindelwald gave one more halfhearted attempt. "Give me candy or else."

Binns averted his eyes as Mr. Riddle shook his head. "No candy until you do as I have asked."

With a slight pout, Miss Grindelwald at last relented. "Fine. I will eat the chicken."

Riddle again shook his head. "That isn't what I asked you to do. You have to move back to Slytherin."

Miss Grindelwald's eyes narrowed. "I like Gryffindor better."

Binns scowled at her, but Mr. Riddle tried another angle. "You have to move back, Kitten. I'm in Slytherin. Don't you want to be with me?"

The girl had an answer for everything and this was no exception. "You can be a Gryffindor too. There is a room right next to mine that you can have."

Of all the outlandish ideas! Binns couldn't fault Riddle for beginning to lose his patience. "Why would I want to be a Gryffindor? Gryffindors are a bunch of filthy mudbloods and mudblood lovers. They are worthless scum not fit to lick the ground-"

Binns doubted the girl knew the meaning of half the words Riddle was using, but she was clever enough to realize her new House was being disparaged. Still, her defense of it was, at least to Binns' mind, a bit lacking.

"In Gryffindor Tower we have lions."

Riddle was growing quite exasperated. "_You don't even like cats! _You hiss at them all the time!"

The girl gave him quite the piercing look. "They are not cats. They are lions. There _is_ a difference, you know."

Were it someone else's House that the girl had deserted, Binns would have found the situation quite amusing. As it was, some of the other professors had taken to mocking him in the faculty lounge.

Like Riddle, Binns too understood the need to bring the girl back into the Slytherin folds by any means necessary. "Move back to Slytherin!"

Miss Grindelwald shook her head. "I do not like snakes."

"Kitten, the snakes won't bother you again. I can control them. I can speak to them and they listen to me."

Miss Grindelwald wrinkled her nose. "Why would anyone want to talk to snakes? I think snakes are nasty and foul smelling. They should be destroyed as a service to wizardkind."

Riddle looked absolutely furious. "The serpent is an ancient and noble creature. Salazar Slytherin used the serpent from his own family coat of arms to serve as the representation of Slytherin House. The serpent embodies many of the same traits Salazar sought in the young witches and wizards he hand selected for Slytherin House."

Miss Grindelwald gave a shrug. "I do not think that says much about Sally-zar Slytherin if he liked snakes so much."

Riddle seemed almost personally affronted, as if it were his own family the girl was insulting. Through gritted teeth, he repeated himself. "Move back to Slytherin!"

"You come live in Gryffindor."

The two appeared to have reached an impasse.

As she reached across the table for the chicken, Mr. Riddle again shook his head. He pushed the platter out of her reach. "Move back to Slytherin."

Miss Grindelwald scowled, but for the moment said nothing more.

######################################

Afterwards, Robert Binns knew it was his own fault. Armando Dippet had tried to warn him earlier. He clearly remembered Armando's words.

'You have to keep a sharp eye on her when you are around her. She may not really mean any harm, but she doesn't think the way we do. At all times when you are around her just try to be aware of what she is doing. Try to keep a step ahead of her. Look for the signs and try to head off the worst before it can happen.'

And he had tried to keep watch on her the whole time she was in his classroom. It wasn't that he hadn't seen all the signs, it was just that he had misinterpreted them.

Maybe that was why he liked history so much. After the space of a hundred or two hundred years it was so much easier to look at what happened and understand it in all its complexities. Of course, he snorted, maybe if he learned after that first incident, he wouldn't be able to walk through walls now.

Walking into his classroom, Robert Binns enjoyed the tapping sound his shoes made against the stone floor. So far it had been a good day. There hadn't been a single incident at breakfast. Of course, Tom Riddle and his charge hadn't shown up for breakfast. That was probably why there hadn't been a single incident, but since the young lady was now housed in Gryffindor Tower, her comings and goings were no longer his concern.

Looking out at the rows of students before him, he frowned. Mr. Riddle and Miss Grindelwald were not present. That was his concern. Just as he was beginning to think he should send a message to Headmaster Dippet, he heard them coming down the hall.

"My Tom, I want to go back to sleep."

"It's History of Magic, you can sleep there."

"I want my breakfast."

"Move back to Slytherin!"

Going on day five and still she was resolute. "No!"

"Then no breakfast."

Binns admired Mr. Riddle. The young man made the makings of a harsh bargainer. Or perhaps a merciless despot. One of the two anyway. In five days all that he had allowed the girl in way of food or drink was the mandrake potion Headmaster Dippet provided for her. Miss Grindelwald was equally as unyielding. Even with that as her only food or drink, the girl still defiantly insisted on wandlessly banishing it to Dippet's cup.

Naturally Binns wanted it to be the girl to give in first, and in returning to Slytherin House restore some of his tarnished honor. For Riddle too to abandon him would be a blow from which recovery would seem unlikely. Not because he had any real fondness for either of them, truthfully they could both hang for all he cared, but there was his own reputation in the faculty lounge to be considered.

Either way, the battle of wills between them had been something to behold.

Mr. Riddle came into the room carrying young Miss Grindelwald. Neither seemed pleased. Riddle gave an angry glare to the young lady while speaking to him.

"Sorry we are late, Professor."

Ignoring the comments said in the hall, he waved them to their seats. He knew people slept in his class, he wasn't that unaware of what went on around him. If he thought it was his teaching style it would bother him, but what could he do about the students just not being interested in their own history?

Before letting Miss Grindelwald sit down, Mr. Riddle tried to straighten her robes with a spell. Binns could hear his exasperated voice.

"How do you get your robes so wrinkled? I just straightened them it still looks like you slept in them."

Back at his podium, he began his lecture. Often he felt like Miniver Cheevy, the man in the muggle poem. The old days seemed so much more interesting than now-a-days. How much more fascinating it would be to live during one of the glorious Goblin Revolutions! Sometimes during his lectures he liked to think the sleeping students were really wizards and he was Elfric the Eager come to overthrow them and free his fellow goblins from their tyranny. He sighed as his thoughts of setting fire to Mr. Crouch's thatch roof cottage were interrupted.

"My Tom, I am hungry."

Binns frowned and fielded this one for Mr. Riddle.

"There will be no eating in my classroom, Miss Grindelwald."

She just stared at him for a minute before resting her head on her folded arms. When he saw her eyes close he went on with his lecture.

He just never did understand children. It might sound odd coming from a professor who had taught four houses and seven years of students for more than eight score years but it was true. He had never married and had children of his own. It wasn't a conscious decision, it just never happened. He just never found the right woman. But then, what woman existed that had the intelligence of Rowena Ravenclaw, the beauty of Cliodna, the charm of Helga Hufflepuff, the generosity of Daisy Dodderidge, and the power of Morgana? What woman could possibly hope to compare favorably to Circe, Dymphna Furmage, Beatrix Bloxam and Wendelin the Weird?

Looking at Miss Grindelwald he thought about how uncommon it was to have a child that young at the school. The professors who had families usually chose to live elsewhere and apparate back and forth to the area outside the school's wards. He noticed her eyes weren't really closed. They were open ever so slightly. Splendid! He smiled. At least one person in this class could appreciate history in all its grandeur.

He realized it wasn't history that so captivated Miss Grindelwald at about the same time that Miss Fawcett's familiar, a desk over from Miss Grindelwald, realized it was being watched. The small mouse, realizing an audience was after all in attendance, began its usual antics. First, it preened its whiskers and then it whirled its tail like a lasso. After seeing a few back flips, Binns shook his head. Mice were so vain, always needing to be the center of attention. He noticed the small smile on Mr. Riddle's face, not at the mice's antics so much as Miss Grindelwald's captivation with it.

"If you promise to stop being so difficult all the time and move back to Slytherin, I will get you a mouse."

Miss Grindelwald didn't answer. Her head still rested on her arms. Except for her eyes carefully following the mouse's progress, she hadn't moved in several minutes. When the mouse began tap dancing towards her desk, Binns noticed her body tense. She seemed to have forgotten to remember to breathe. He knew the mouse meant no harm so he did not intercede as it got closer and closer. She would soon realize the mouse was of no threat to her.

Later, trying to explain to Armando Dippet what happened next, he had referred to his own shock being so great, "You could have picked me up off the floor!" Rather apt given it wasn't all that long afterwards that after another incident with Miss Grindelwald they really had had to pick him up off the floor. Well, his body anyway.

As the mouse's tap dancing edged closer to Miss Grindelwald's desk, the young girl's hand moved out sharply. Before Mr. Riddle, Miss Fawcett, or he could react, the mouse, well part of it anyway, was in Miss Grindelwald's mouth. The sickening crunch carried through the silent chamber of sleeping students. Miss Fawcett's loud wail and Mr. Riddle's shouts soon had everyone awake and on their feet. The students' quick shift from sleep to ready for battle made him wonder if next time he set fire to Mr. Crouch's cottage he would have time to do his victory dance properly before having to run away.

"That's revolting! Stop that right now! People do not eat mice! Bad Kitten! Just…bad, bad Kitten!"

He watched as Mr. Riddle tussled with the young girl over her newly acquired breakfast.

"Spit that out now!"

The young girl hissed at Riddle when he succeeded in over powering her.

"Don't you ever hiss at me!"

When Mr. Riddle tried to return the parts of Miss Fawcett's mouse to her, Miss Fawcett howled all the more. Miss Grindelwald for her part just returned her head to its previous position on top of her arms with a sullen expression.

Oh dear. This was not good at all. He should have known better than to go along with one of Kettleburn's ideas. "Mr. Riddle, perhaps you should take Miss Grindelwald back to her rooms and find her a proper breakfast."

Mr. Riddle jerked Miss Grindelwald out of her seat by the back of her robes and lifted her past the rows of students. Once at the door he set her down again. All the way down the hall he could be heard haranguing her.

"Little girls don't eat mice! That was the most revolting thing I have ever seen!"

"My Tom, carry me."

"I'm not carrying you anymore. You aren't a cat so stop pretending that you are!"

#######################################

Kevric Kettleburn knocked, but did not wait for an answer before entering the Gryffindor Head Girl's room.

Tom had been quite upset with Kitten for switching Houses and after the incident in Binns' class, the two had had something of a parting of ways. Specifically, Tom didn't come around to take her places anymore. Without Tom to follow around, the past few days Kitten had taken to skiving off all of her classes. And of course, no one was doing anything about it.

It was odd how disturbed Tom was by what Kitten had done. Even if the boy had managed to miss the predatory way Kitten seemed to regard Dippet's toad, Tom knew what had become of Kitten's own puffskein. What she did to the mouse really shouldn't have been such a ghastly surprise for Tom.

While Kevric was not pleased with what Kitten had done, he could understand it. And in retrospect, he was partially to blame. This was hardly an unforeseeable consequence of telling Tom to stop feeding Kitten. After all, cats could be fairly self reliant creatures.

Given how horribly his last few ideas had worked out, Kevric had seriously considered just leaving the situation alone. But in the end, he just couldn't do it. Looking at the boxes of candy stacked around the room, he repressed a sigh and wondered if it had been Binns' or Dippet's suggestion to keep Kitten so stuffed with candy that she would not feel the need to graze on other student's familiars.

"Hello Kitten. Shouldn't you be in class?"

"I do not need to go to them."

Raising an eyebrow, Kevric asked the obvious. "Why not?"

With a shrug, Kitten answered. "My bed is much more comfortable than my chair in History of Magic. Charms is _just_ silly wand waving. All anyone needs to know from Defense against the Dark Arts is never get hit. After that, everything else is-"

And Binns thought _Kevric_ was a bad influence on children?

"Let's go. You are coming with me."

"Where?"

"Outside. If you don't want to listen on during my class you can just play outside."

Kitten remained seated on the bed. "I am supposed to stay inside. I am a house cat_, not _an outdoor cat."

Kevric gave a slight tug on her hand to get her to rise. "The sunshine will be good for you." She went out the door without any physical resistance, but she continued protesting the whole way.

"I am _not_ supposed to go outside. Somebody might steal me. Or sometimes the automobeals outside go by really fast and I might get run over. It is better to stay inside."

"What is an 'automobeal'?"

Kitten was quiet a minute. By the way she ended up just ignoring the question, Kevric surmised she didn't know either.

"They go _really _fast."

Once they made it outside, Kevric let Tranquility out of her pen in an attempt to interest Kitten, but though the hippogriff followed the girl around like a benevolent pogrebin, the girl no longer seemed fascinated by the hippogriff. Fairly soon after he started lecturing, Kitten grew bored and wandered away from the class. Given their proximity to both the forest and the lake, Kevric kept a watchful eye on her, but allowed her to meander. He couldn't really blame her; today's lesson, dragons and unicorns, was his personal least favorite.

One would think a class on dragons and unicorns would be interesting, but it didn't sound interesting. And sound was just about all it did. Unlike most of his other lessons, with this one he couldn't very well bring in live specimens. Dragons were understandably far too dangerous, but it always seemed ridiculous to be only a few hundred meters from herds of unicorns and not be able to actually show one to the class.

So instead, almost embarrassed, Kevric held a small picture of a dragon up for all to see. Ignoring the snickering from the Slytherin/Hufflepuff mixed class, he began.

"Dragons. Majestic. Powerful. Dangerous. They come in ten varieties. The largest is the Ukrainian Ironbelly, which can weigh the greater part of six tons. The smallest is the Peruvian Vipertooth. Size, however, is not everything. The Vipertooth is considered the most aggressive of all dragons because while by necessity it feeds mostly on goats and cows, whenever given the option, its meal of choice is humans…."

Kitten was a little too close to the lake for Kevric's comfort, but she was happily enough occupying herself with the dirt and mud, so he wasn't going to do anything quite yet.

"Dragon hide is used in protective shields and clothing. The horn and liver can be used in several potions. Dragon eggs have several uses other than the most obvious, hatching, but are now a non-tradable substance. The dung-" Kevric paused patiently to allow the laughter to die down. "-makes a most useful fertilizer. I'm sure more than a few of you have dragon heart strings in your hands right now. Dragons are such highly magical creatures that they make a very powerful wand core. Even the blood of a dragon has many uses. Can anyone name a few?"

Clearly no one had bother to do the assigned reading. "Anyone?"

"Okay, I'll give you a hint; oven cleaner is one. There are eleven more, who can name them?"

After a moment of silence, Kevric asked again. "Come now, surely someone here can name the twelve uses of dragon blood?"

Kevric sighed as finally one hand went up. The new arrival had not escaped his attention. "Professor Dumbledore put your hand down or I _will _give you a detention."

Fairly certain Dumbledore had not come all this way just to check on him, Kevric waved him off in the direction of the lake.

#########################################

Miss Grindelwald was sitting quietly at the edge of the water gazing out at the lake. She had been using her wand to draw in the damp earth around some flowers. Albus Dumbledore gave an odd look to the flowers. They were beautiful, but an unusual assortment to find growing together and he couldn't recall having seen them the last time he walked around the lake.

A hippogriff was resting a short distance from her, but the girl was adamantly ignoring it. Every time the hippogriff tried to move closer, the girl relocated to keep a distance between them. As Dumbledore approached, moving slowly so as not to startle the hippogriff, Kitten looked up expectantly. Her disappointment that he wasn't a certain someone else was obvious in the way her face fell and she returned her gaze to the lake.

Despite having wanted to segregate the girl from Tom Riddle, Dumbledore couldn't help feeling a twinge of regret or perhaps guilt. Now that Tom had grown tired of the girl, she spent much of her time alone. Most of the other children were frightened of her, not an entirely unreasonable response, given the things that had been happening around her.

Trying to interest the girl, Dumbledore picked up a few flat stones. After he skipped the second one over the water, she did look up at him. The dark expression she rewarded him with did not seem at all one of interest. Still, he tried to engage her in conversation.

"Would you like to learn to skip stones? There is a special trick to it in the way you move your wrist."

Her expression was clearly disapproving as he threw another stone onto the lake.

"People live in there you know. Would you like it if people threw rocks at where you live?"

When he was too slow to come up with a response, the girl showed she wanted no part of his company. Turning back only once to peer at him disapprovingly, she made her way over to Kettleburn. The hippogriff followed after her.

When she pulled on the sleeve of Kettleburn's robes, the young professor immediately gave her his full attention. He could see Kettleburn trying desperately to hide his smile as the girl appeared to be telling of his actions. Watching her continue to frown at him, Dumbledore did his best to appear contrite. The girl could be so sensitive, so thoughtful about some things.

Dumbledore had stopped by her rooms to check on her. He knew she had been taking a 'break' from her classes the past few days and so he had been concerned to find her gone. Now, knowing she was in good company, he headed back towards the castle.

######################################

Kevric Kettleburn tried his best to keep from laughing as Kitten related to him what Dumbledore had done. Poor Albus just couldn't seem to win with her. As soon as Dumbledore went back into the castle, Kitten returned to her earlier spot.

Shortly after he began his discussion of unicorns he noticed Hagrid approach with Dippet's toad. Hagrid hung off to the side for a few minutes, but he seemed to just be listening in, not trying to get Kevric's attention. Soon he too grew bored and wandered off.

"Pieces of unicorn horns and hooves can be used in potions. The hairs can be used as well, as a catalyst of sorts. However, given their alternative use as a wand core, they are generally considered too valuable for potion use. Like dragon blood, unicorn blood has several different uses, most of which have to do with the Dark Arts…"

Kevric was disturbed to see the hands of several students shoot up. He didn't want to sound biased, but he did notice that they weren't Hufflepuff hands.

He called on a student at random and found the boy's information to be entirely incomplete.

"Drinking unicorn blood can keep a person alive even if they are at the brink of death!"

"That is true," Kevric conceded, "but drinking the blood of a unicorn leaves you to forever after live a cursed existence."

Kevric found it disturbing that the boy who had suggested drinking the blood shrugged at the mention of the consequences of doing it.

One of his Hufflepuffs gave a less…dark use. "It also acts as a restorative when drunk by other unicorns. It can heal, even regenerate a sick or injured unicorn."

But then the Slytherins started in again with more of the less…innocent uses.

"If a woman drinks it before…" By no means did Kevric think of himself as a prude like Binns, but even he thought the young Slytherin lady should have blushed while saying _that_ in front of the whole class. "…you can guarantee conception."

Apparently the other girls in the class didn't agree with him. Another young Slytherin girl chimed in to further elaborate. "It will even work despite a blood marriage. So you can conceive a child with someone other than your husband."

Kevric could see that some of the Slytherin boys were not pleased with what they were hearing either, but he suspected their displeasure was for a different reason than his.

######################################

Mr. Keys was not one to complain so instead of taking their usual route, Rubeus Hagrid carried him over towards Professor Kettleburn's class. He liked Professor Kettleburn right enough but usually Hagrid tended to stay away from him during his classes. Oh Professor Kettleburn never minded, it was just all the students around him. Most of them were nice enough, he still had some he was friendly with in Gryffindor, but it just felt kind of funny to be around them cause some he used to have classes with.

He tried not to think about it much, but sometimes he still missed all that learning. Not that he didn't like all the responsibilities of his new position, just…sometimes….

But today he heard that Professor Kettleburn was going to be talking about dragons in his classes and the thought of that had kind of helped him forget the unease he felt being around the other children.

Dragons were a special interest of his. There was nothing in the world that Hagrid would like more than a dragon to call his own. He had never met one in person before but when he was little….er well not as big, he used to spend hours looking at all the pictures of dragons in a book his dad had. He still had the book and he still liked to look at the pictures often. They reminded him of his dad, but in a happy way.

Getting close enough to actually hear, Hagrid was disappointed to find Professor Kettleburn was talking about unicorns instead. Oh he liked unicorns just fine, but they weren't nearly so interesting as dragons. And anyway, he could just go into the forest and look at the unicorns anytime he wanted. He wasn't supposed to, but he could and, well, once in a while he did…well maybe more than once in a while…kind of more like a lot actually.

So instead of listening to Professor Kettleburn, Hagrid's attention started to wander. When he saw Kitten sitting by herself, stopping to pet Tranquility along the way, he went over to join her.

"'ello Kitten. How might yeh be doin' terday?"

Kitten looked at him and gave a little shrug. Looking back at her, Hagrid kind of got the idea she wasn't very happy.

"Dinna yeh like Professor Kettleburn's class?"

Today must be a shrugging day. Hagrid could understand that. He had them himself sometimes. "I think Tranquility would like ter come over an' say hello."

Kitten sighed. "I do not want her to come over by me. All hippogriffs do is die and then flyaway."

"Eh, na in that order I hope?"

That didn't even get him the smile he was trying for, so Hagrid gave up on trying to cheer her up. Hagrid didn't really care for Tom himself, but he knew Kitten did and that that was part of the reason she was unhappy. All in all, Hagrid never got the idea Kitten liked it here.

"I was sorry ter hear yeh and Tom aren't gettin' along anymore."

Kitten didn't say anything for a few minutes, but the quiet didn't bother Hagrid and eventually she did say something back to him.

"One time I was in the kitchen with my Mum and she saw a mouse. She climbed up on a chair because she was afraid. But I was not afraid. I chased the mouse and I caught it. My mum did not want me to keep the mouse either, but she was much nicer about taking it away than my Tom was. She kept telling me what a clever little kitten I was for catching it for her."

Professor Dumbledore had told Hagrid all about Kitten, he knew she had never known her mother. He knew she was making the story up, but he didn't let on. He couldn't really remember his mum either and sometimes he liked to make up stories about her too.

"Yeh did a good job. Yeh caught a mouse. That's what kittens are supposed ter do. I dinna know what Tom's problem is."

Real quiet like, Kitten added. "I miss my mum."

Kitten stayed quiet after that, but Hagrid managed to talk enough for the both of them.

"Well I dinna reall' like Professor Kettleburn's class much either terday. I stopped by fer ta see if he was talkin' about dragons, but he isna. I like unicorns an' all, but I can go into the forest and see one o' them any day o' the week. But dragons, well, I'm jus' wild about dragons meself. I think they have got ta be the most beautiful creatures ever. Present compan' excluded o' course.

Na some folks'll say dragons are a mean an' ornery sort, but me, well, I say codswallop. It's all in how yeh treat them. Yeh get yerself one young enough and yeh treat it righ' an' yeh won't have na problems at'll. Yeh see, ta meh way of thinkin' the problem is most folks only ever git ta meet a full grown dragon that has probably never seen full grown people before either. Both get scared and well, that there is where all yeh troubles start.

Na, if yeh are goin' ta do it, yeh need ta do it right. Someday I'm goin' ta get mahself a dragon and show 'em all how it's done."

Kitten seemed to him to be a real good listener, though she hadn't said anything more to him. After a while when he stood up to leave, Kitten seemed kind of disappointed. He had to finish with Mr. Keys' walk and return him to the Headmaster's office, but not seeing any reason why Kitten couldn't come along too, he invited her.

Kitten took his hand, but since Professor Kettleburn was the one she came with, Hagrid took her over with him to ask Professor Kettleburn's permission.

#############################################

Kevric Kettleburn listened to Hagrid's request. Kevric liked Hagrid, he knew him to be a very sweet boy. Hagrid would never deliberately cause harm to Kitten, or anybody for that matter, but as the accident with Myrtle showed, lack of intention wasn't always enough to keep everyone safe. Certainly Hagrid wasn't very good at following rules and Kevric worried about what kind of influence he might have on Kitten.

Somehow he got a very bad feeling about the idea of mixing the two of them together...

Still, seeing Kitten holding Hagrid's hand, finally seeming to take an interest in something or someone, Kevric couldn't actually justify saying no.

"I think Kitten might enjoy a walk. The exercise will be good for her. But let's leave Keys with me. I can return him to Dippet's office after my class is over."

As the pair started to make their getaway, in a very firm voice, Kettleburn added a little reminder. "Hagrid, don't forget that some parts of the grounds are _off limits _even for assistant groundskeepers."

Kevric kept a careful eye on their trajectory, wanting to make sure they went nowhere near the Forbidden Forest. As soon as the pair were out of earshot, Kitten stopped and said something to Hagrid. After what appeared to be a very brief and one sided discussion, Hagrid nodded. He lifted Kitten up and carried her for the rest of their 'walk'.

The walk itself didn't last very long. After only another minute of Kitten's 'exercise', Kitten's lips could again be seen moving. Hagrid paused and then changed directions. Watching the pair head into Hagrid's hut, Kevric sighed, thinking of all the refreshing sunshine Kitten would enjoy in there. But, at least it wasn't the forest.

Maybe Hagrid's influence on Kitten wasn't the one he should be worried about.

Kevric returned his attentions to his class as one of the students asked a question.

"Professor, you said that unicorn milk has the same properties as the blood, but without the curse. What about dragon milk?"

Kevric again sighed. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered. "Mr. Nott, you go find a lactating dragon and tell me."

Seeing an alarmed looking Headmaster heading right toward him, Kevric dismissed his class a few minutes early. As soon as Dippet caught sight of his toad, he calmed considerably. Still, he was concerned.

"What happened to Mr. Hagrid?"

"He took Kitten for a walk. I told him I would watch Keys and drop him off at your office as soon as my class ended."

Dippet didn't seem too reassured by this. "A walk to where? Weren't you saying just the other day that you thought Mr. Hagrid had again been venturing into the forest?"

Kevric shook his head. "I was watching for that. They didn't go there, they went into Hagrid's hut."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Kevric realized who he was talking to and regretted saying them.

"You allowed them to go together, unchaperoned, into Mr. Hagrid's hut?"

Without waiting for a response, Dippet strode off in the direction of Hagrid's hut. Following after him, Kevric tried to make Dippet see reason.

"Armando, this is Hagrid we are talking about. I mean…Hagrid! The boy never, I mean I don't think he even knows-"

As they reached the door to Hagrid's hut and heard Hagrid's voice coming out the open window, Kevric was shocked into silence.

"I dinna know about this. Da girls, do they really like this?"

Dippet threw open the door without knocking. After only the briefest of glances inside, Kevric had to turn away and focus on the grounds in an attempt to regain control of his emotions. His sides were shaking from trying to suppress his laughter. No, Hagrid's influence on Kitten was definitely not the one to be worried about.

Hagrid was sitting on the floor with his hair divided into two very sorry excuses for ponytails. Standing on a chair behind Hagrid, brush in hand, Kitten responded not at all convincingly to Hagrid's concerns.

"Of course they do!"

While admiring his new hairstyle in a small mirror, Hagrid noticed the new arrivals.

"'ello Headmaster, Professor. Would yeh care tah join us?"

Almost mesmerized by the mounds on Hagrid's head, Dippet responded slowly. "No…no…just…in the future, keep the door op-Come away from there this instant!"

Startled Kevric returned his attention to the hut. Kitten had wandered over to the far corner. At first Kevric couldn't understand what had upset the Headmaster so; he couldn't see anything over there. It wasn't until Kitten spoke that he realized Hagrid had moved the thestral he was trying to tame inside.

"I am doing it the right way. I am only petting him _with _his feathers, not against."

"Mr. Hagrid, I think it best that you escort Miss Grindelwald back to Gryffindor Tower now." Dippet seemed quite disturbed that Kitten could see the thestral. And for once, Kevric was in complete agreement with him.

#########################################

"Hobgoblin."

"Be gone wench! You are most unwelcome here!"

Sir Cadogan smirked, watching the girl frown.

"Are you sure that is not the password?"

So what if it was? "Be gone wench! Foul my doorstep no longer!"

"Do you see this?" The girl pointed to her bosom.

Averting his eyes only after an overly long look, Sir Cadogan blushed deeply at the girl's daring. "Your wiles are useless against me you lusty wench! I allow entrance to no one!"

"The badge, you…" the girl stammered, unable to find the word she desired. "…look _at_ the badge!"

Oh, he hadn't noticed a badge before when he was looking, but sure enough, there was one. "What of it, wench?"

The girl was becoming quite livid with him. "I am the Head Girl. It is okay to let me in."

Sir Cadogan shook his head. "Your words mean nothing to me! I will hold this keep until my dying breath!"

Watching the girl's hands ball up into fists, Sir Cadogan prepared to defend himself. He was more than a little let down when instead of attacking she gave a disappointed sigh.

"Oh well. If you won't let me in I guess I won't be able to complete my _quest_."

"A quest you say?"

She nodded eagerly.

"What kind of a quest?"

The girl seemed a bit uncertain at first. "What kind of a quest? Well…I…I can't tell you. I have been sworn to secrecy."

"All Knights are foresworn to lend aid and assist in quests. Fair maiden, you must make haste! Enter at once!"

"Maybe you're just saying it wrong. Let me try, Mulciber."

"Nott, how many ways are there to say the word 'hobgoblin'?"

Sir Cadogan snickered, listening to the one called Nott try as well. "Hobgoblin. H-o-o-bg-o-o-blin! H-a-a-bg-a-a-blin! H-o-a-b-"

This was far too entertaining. "Knaves, all of you! Draw your swords and prepare to do battle."

Nott seemed eager for the challenge. "Good idea." But instead he drew his wand. "Let's just blast him."

That wasn't at all what he had meant! "No! Swords or lances, like real Knights!"

Thankfully the one called Mulciber was sensible enough to clout the Nott boy upside the head. "Idiot! Binns would probably miss it, but do you really think Dumbledore wouldn't notice a hole blasted through the Gryffindor portal painting? Besides even with a hole in the portrait the doorway will still be closed."

Nott frowned. "Fine. Let's just go find another first year to beat the password out of."

As they were going round the corner they ran into another of their Slytherin cohorts.

"Nott, Mulciber, what is taking you so long? Why don't you have her?"

"We tried Avery, but we can't get into Gryffindor Tower. The password is supposed to be 'hobgoblin', but it isn't working."

Avery sighed. "Did you tell him about the quest we are on?"

The Nott boy looked quite confused. "Quest? I thought we were going to show that little deserter just what we do with Gryf -OW! Don't hit me!"

Avery was growing angrier and angrier. "Do I have to do everything myself? Watch."

Not bothering to wait for Avery to fully approach, Sir Cadogan began the work of warding him off. "Back you worthless cur! This entrance is fortified against all intruders!"

Avery bowed his head slightly in a show of respect. "But kind and noble sir, my friends and I are squires, training to join the ranks of the great Knights, like yourself. We are on a _quest_ and we seek your aid. Please, you must allow us passage into the lands that you so ably protect."

Sir Cadogan was torn. He really shouldn't be letting students from other Houses into the dormitory…but quests were long and arduous work…and it was expected for Knights to lend aid to others training to be Knights…and if they were to become Knights, he might finally get a proper jousting opponent…besides, they did have the password…

He swung the passageway open. "Carry on gentlemen!"

As they entered, Squire Mulciber seemed to be having some doubts about joining the Knighthood. "I don't know about this. Do you think Tom will be mad when he finds out?"

Squire Avery sought to reassure his fellow-in-arms. "Why would Riddle care? He's done with her. Why shouldn't we get to have a little fun?"

##############################################

The portrait that hung in the Gryffindor Common Room was a simple grassy landscape. There was no chair in it, but sitting on the grass with a slight breeze ruffling his garments suited him well. The view here was a definite improvement over that to which he had recently grown accustomed. So far the basest deed he had had to witness here was four students scribing from another's homework parchment.

In the early afternoons, it was customary for the Gryffindor Common room to be vacant. This afternoon however, there were two people present, and neither was truly a Gryffindor.

The Slytherin turned Gryffindor had been lying on the floor by the fireplace, drawing. She did look up briefly when the Hufflepuff entered, but quickly returned her attentions to her artwork. The Hufflepuff for her part didn't say anything either. With an entirely undecipherable expression, she remained simply observing the younger girl from across the way.

His blood, if he had had any, would have run cold at the sight of three more not-Gryffindors entering the room. He briefly hoped that the sight of the older girl, the one who wore the Head Girl badge, would dissuade the three new interlopers. But the hope was foolhardy; after all, did not the young man from whose room he had fled, wear the counterpart of that badge?

Amelia Bones, the Hufflepuff, the representative of all that was supposed to be just, did attempt to confront them…somewhat. "Slytherins aren't allowed in here. Leave now or I will report you."

The Mulciber boy smirked. "And Hufflepuffs _are_ allowed?"

While Mulciber paused to debate the point, the other two had approached the younger girl. As when the older girl entered, she had only looked up long enough to note who was entering and then returned her attentions to her drawing. She wasn't looking at them and noticed neither the Nott boy reaching out to grab hold of her or the Avery boy's shake of the head telling him not to.

Instead, a smiling Avery leaned down, nearer to the girl's eye level and spoke. "I thought I saw your puffskein down in the dungeons. It was wandering about in Tom's rooms. You might want to go-"

Avery didn't even bother to finish as the girl scrambled to the door and out of the dormitories.

"See Nott, much easier. Tom is in the library right now so no worries about interruptions." Turning back to the door, he called to his other companion. "Let's go."

The Bones girl bit her lip. "What are you planning to do to her?"

The Mulciber boy shrugged. He seemed genuinely curious. "Why would you of all people care?"

Hufflepuffs might be just, but they were also loyal. In this case it seemed the later would outweigh the former. "I…I don't."

Amelia Bones allowed the three to pass unhindered. After remaining in the room a few minutes longer, she too finally departed.

###########################################

Heading into Gryffindor Tower, Albus Dumbledore was surprised to bump into of all things a Hufflepuff.

"Amelia, you look upset. Is everything all right?"

He had long ago noticed Amelia's habit of chewing on her lip when she was nervous or trying to make an important decision. She began examining her shoes as though they might have the answer.

"Is there something you would like to talk about?"

For a moment he thought she was going to confide in him, but then still examining her shoes, she shook her head. Sounding very torn, she spoke. "No, sir."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

After watching Amelia walk away, Dumbledore entered the Gryffindor common room to check on Miss Grindelwald. Both the Common room and her bedroom were empty. Thinking it safe to assume she had again gone out with Kettleburn, Dumbledore headed back to his classroom.

_tbc_


	47. Chapter 47

_Chapter 47_

_A/N Thank you Maria for taking the time to beta this._

_Just a tiny update so people stop worrying that I have disappeared entirely. I haven't done much writing the past few weeks, but I will try to have a full chapter finished for next Friday._

The books in his library were things of beauty, works of art, things to be revered and admired from afar. Perhaps to be handled with all due care and respect by a select few scholars, but certainly not something to be pawed over by the teeming masses that frequented his small alcove of the castle.

Just the thought of all those grubby little hands and even grubbier little minds making contact with his books…the careless way they pulled them from the shelves by their bindings…the folds and creases they used to anoint passages…the way they tore the pages while flipping through them quickly, not savoring the words, merely skimming…the inconsiderate way they passed them amongst each other, tossing or haphazardly levitating them…it sickened him. _They_ all sickened him.

There was no way around it; children had no business being in a library.

Biblio Caries scowled as another of them entered. This one, _this one_, wasn't even after the books. She headed straight for a boy.

At first she just stood in front of the boy, waiting to get his attention. Finally, with a smirk the boy looked up.

"Come to ask me to Hogsmeade again, Amelia?"

Talking wasn't allowed in the library so as quickly as he could, Caries made his way over to reprimand them.

The girl glared and turned to leave. Given the boy's attitude, the librarian wasn't surprised. But biting her lip, she turned back around. "Avery and a few of your other _friends_ took your precious kitten down to your room in the dungeons. I _thought_ you might want to know."

The boy rose so quickly that he knocked his chair backwards. Caries couldn't blame the boy for looking so panicked. He wouldn't want that girl in his rooms either. There was no telling the damage she could cause. He thanked his lucky stars that she had never tried to venture into his library.

Before knocking over a few more chairs in his haste to leave, the boy paused to give a nod of thanks. "I won't forget this, Amelia."

The librarian had been making his way over as quickly as he could to reprimand them for talking. Unfortunately as quickly as he could wasn't as quick as it used to be. Before he reached the table, both had headed out of the library in opposite directions.

Righting the chairs and gathering up the books the boy had been using, Caries was just grateful they were gone.

#####################################

How he loathed this room. Despite the presence of his canvas here, he had hoped never to return to it.

Too trusting, the girl wandered the room checking almost every spot that might conceivably contain a puffskein. The only area she avoided was the wardrobe.

The one called Avery noticed her hesitation and laughed. Still standing with the other two young men by the now closed door, he spoke in a voice that was genuinely curious. "How is it you already know not to open the wardrobe, but you don't know what happened to your puffskein?"

When the girl didn't answer, the would be young man continued trying to goad her. "Go on, open the wardrobe. For all you know, the puffskein could be in there too."

He didn't know what was in the wardrobe and what's more, he didn't want to know. The girl looked quite unhappy debating her options.

"Avery, this is boring! This isn't what we brought her down here for!"

"Quiet Mulciber. There is no need to hurry. We have time for all kinds of fun."

In the end, it seemed the girl had more Gryffindor in her than he had thought. Her desire to be reunited with her puffskein was greater than her fear of whatever was now kept within the wardrobe.

As soon as the wardrobe door was opened slightly, a large serpent worked its way out. The girl retreated as the serpent, like many a genie before it, sought to take out its anger not at the one who had imprisoned it, but the one who released it.

Despite being next to the door, it wasn't until the serpent, seeming as if by random, retreated back to the wardrobe that anyone noticed the new arrival.

"What the bloody hell do you three think you are doing?"

In a panic, the one called Nott responded. "Why would you care? You're done with her. Why shouldn't we get to have a little fun?"

The new arrival seethed as he answered back. "Just because I am through with her doesn't mean you can have her."

The young man checked the condition of the girl and her garments. Finding them wrinkled and quite a bit dusty, but not torn or out of place, the young man gently lifted her up.

"I will deal with you three when I return. And believe me, if I don't find you waiting _right here, _as impossible as it may seem, I will make you ever sorrier than you otherwise would be."

Moving through various portraits, he listened and followed as the young man carried the girl back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Don't ever go anywhere with those boys again."

Happy to be once again back with the young man and recovered from her fright, the girl began to argue. "I want my puffskein. They said they saw my puffskein."

With an _almost_ apologetic frown, the young man explained. "Those boys lied. Your puffskein is gone and he can never come back. You know that."

Reaching the entrance to the Gryffindor Common room, the young man set her down. Sadly the girl tugged on his hand trying to pull him in with her. "Come with me."

Leaning down and stroking her hair, the young man shook his head. "Those boys won't try to bother you again, I'll see to that. You _know_ what you need to do. I'm not going to spend time with you or even talk to you again until you do. Come back to Slytherin and we can be together again."

After kissing her cheek, the young man again stood straight. His tone became less gentle and forgiving. "And don't _ever _do anything like what you did in Binns' classroom again. That was completely revolting. Little girls _don't_ eat mice."

Stalking away, the young man failed to hear the girl's quiet rebuttal.

"But they are so crunchy and delicious!"

_tbc_


	48. Chapter 48

_Chapter 48_

A/N A thousand thank you's to Maria for getting this chapter back to me so quickly. The remaining errors are intentional and meant to represent the particular narrators used.

Sorry for the long delay between chapters but being plagiarized isn't one of the better motivators for writing. I have a little over 8,000 words of the next chapter finished already (alas not the first 8,000 words) so hopefully the next chapter will be out a lot sooner.

Just to let you know where the story stands, after this there are two more real chapters followed by a fairly short chapter that take place partially in the past and partially in the present, and then a final sort of epilogue chapter. Now clearly that isn't the end of the story, but this tale has grown a bit overly long. There are six places that work well as a stopping point, so unless someone strongly objects, the story will take up again under the title 'Misconceptions, Transfigurations, & Predictions.' While misconceptions and transfigurations have played an important part in the story so far the main emphasis has been on predictions. The change in word order for the second title reflects that misconceptions will be the main driving force behind the next part.

One last thing, for those confused by Binns' internal monologue in the chapter before last, the poem Binns referenced was 'Miniver Cheevy' by Edwin Arlington Robinson. (I tried to include a url linking to a copy of the poem, but ffn will not let me. Enter the author and title into any search engine and you should be able to find a copy of the poem) Essentially (at least on some levels, please no poetry debates!) it's a poem about a man who instead of doing something with his life wastes it wishing for the way things used to be, or at least the way he thinks they used to be. I'll put a link to the poem in the a/n of that chapter as soon as I get a chance. All you really needed to get out of that segment was that rather than pay attention to what was happening around him, Binns once again allowed his mind to wander.

Since Fnn is being weird:

"""""""" denotes a time shift

####### change in narrator

_'I trust everyone is familiar with the game 'Simon Says'?_

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Albus Dumbledore couldn't imagine that all the changes and events that had been going on were very comforting to Kitten Grindelwald. He knew she was unhappy and so he had given her a great deal of leeway in recent days, but it didn't really seem to be helping things. Kettleburn was right, structure and stability were very important for children. Though she might resist at first, going to classes would be good for her. It would occupy her time and get her to start interacting with the other children more.

Finding her in the common room, all but inside the fireplace, he held out to her a schedule. Surprisingly, she readily took the parchment.

"Thank you."

Dumbledore couldn't decide between a smile or a frown, watching her immediately turn it over and begin work coloring the back.

"That is the schedule of classes you are to report to today."

Kitten politely returned the parchment to him. "_No_ thank you."

Handing the parchment back, Dumbledore gave a nod. Why was he not at all surprised that it wasn't going to be that easy? "I can understand feeling that way, but school is important. You need to go to classes so you can learn new things."

When he wouldn't take it back in his hand, Kitten laid the parchment on the ground and pushed it in his direction.

"I do not want to go to school. I already know everything that I need to know."

Lowering himself closer to her eye level, Dumbledore returned the parchment and tried again. "School is very important. You get to have wonderful new experiences, interact with other children-"

This time the parchment scooted his way without her hand even touching it. "I do not want to go to school."

Trying to reason wasn't getting him very far. Time to be firm. "Well you have to."

"No, I do not."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I do not."

"Yes, you-" From the smile that Kitten did a rather poor job of hiding, Dumbledore realized what she was doing. "Come with me."

When she made no attempt to move, he added a final word. "Now."

"Right now?"

He nodded. "Right now."

Still lying on the floor, she inquired. "Right, right now?"

"Yes, right, rig-" Dumbledore sighed at himself for again falling for that trick. "You like to make things difficult, don't you?"

Kitten smiled not at all sheepishly. "You mean like right now?"

"Yes, rig-" Dumbledore sighed. "So glad to have amused you. Potions now." Eyes twinkling, Dumbledore held up a hand before she could ask. "Yes, right, right now."

He walked with her until she was out of the tower. As soon as they parted ways he saw her turn not in the direction of the dungeons, but rather in that of the Charm's corridor. Dumbledore shook his head, amused. He had met many a Cornish pixie less mischievous than she.

#######################################

Professor Tofty raised an eyebrow. This was certainly an interesting switch. It used to be Mr. Riddle who wouldn't let Miss Grindelwald out of his sight. Now it was Miss Grindelwald keeping watch on Mr. Riddle. When the bell rang, as he made his way to the door Riddle made a great show of avoiding completely Miss Grindelwald's desk . That it was a show was completely given away by the 'casual' way Mr. Riddle looked back to be certain Miss Grindelwald was watching while he passed through the door.

Miss Grindelwald didn't leave. She stayed throughout his next class. The girl who usually sat in her seat during that class took one look and without comment found a new seat.

Tofty didn't mind Miss Grindelwald staying. She sat quietly in her seat, appearing to be deep in thought and not a bother to anyone. He was prepared to allow her to stay for a third class, were it not for the arrival of a very pressed upon looking Professor Binns come to retrieve and deliver her to Dippet's office for afternoon tea.

#######################################

The gall, the nerve of some people! Imagine, making him traipse about the castle all day looking after a child. She was in Dumbledore's house now; make him do it! Nearly to the Headmaster's office, Robert Binns began to take out his frustration on Miss Grindelwald.

"I do not have time to gallivant around the castle all day looking for you. If you cannot find your own way to the Headmaster's office then at least have the courtesy to be where you are scheduled to be!"

Turning around, he realized Miss Grindelwald was no longer following behind him. With a sigh he began to backtrack. He found her on the first step of the first staircase they had, or should have, traveled up on their journey. With no small amount of chagrin, he realized just how far he had traveled without noticing her absence.

Standing on the top step, he beckoned her up, but she remained at the base of the stairs. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for the stairs to carry me up."

Binns sighed. The girl wasn't very bright. "These stairs don't move."

"The stairs outside Headmaster Dippet's office move."

"Yes…well…but those are special stairs."

"Why?"

"Because…because they move!"

"Why?"

"Because…" There was some incantation, but it was very difficult. "Because they are special."

"Why does Headmaster Dippet get special stairs that move?"

"Because…because…he is special!"

"I want stairs that move."

"You can't have stairs that move!"

"Why not?"

"Because!"

"Because why?"

"Because! Because! Because!"

The girl frowned at him. " Headmaster Dippet gets moving stairs because he is special. Am I not special?"

"No! You're not!" Seeing the hurt glare, Binns tried to amend his statement. "You're not moving stairs special."

"I thought we were all special?"

Binns frowned. What kind of twaddle was Kettleburn filling her head with now? "Nonsense. Whoever told you that is a liar! Now come along!"

"No. I want stairs that move…or someone to carry me."

Not this again. "I am not carrying you!"

Binns lied to people quite often, and frequently he tried to make it seem as if suggestions he gave people were innocent thoughts he had just come up with. The quiet, very thoughtful way Miss Grindelwald made her suggestion was a dead giveaway that she had _not_ just come up with it.

"Well…maybe you could tell my Tom that he has to carry me again."

Binns snorted. All this subterfuge for that! No doubt about it, she was a Slytherin all right. "Life doesn't work that way. As much as I would like to be able to- and believe me I would like to be able to- I cannot order someone to like or dislike someone else. It just doesn't work that way."

When she still made no movement, Binns sighed. "You have a far better chance of the stairs moving on their own then of that happening so get up here now! We have to hurry, we cannot keep Headmaster Dippet waiting!"

Clearly that answer did not please her. Binns let out a yelp and grabbed at the railing as the staircase shifted, bottom becoming top and vice versa.

He scowled as now above him, the girl began to mock him. "_Get up here now! We have to hurry! We cannot keep the Headmaster waiting!"_

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"I am telling you, Armando, I don't think the Grindelwald girl had anything to do with it."

As he continued speaking, Robert Binns hoped he sounded sincere. "I think it is some of the other students doing it, trying to get her into trouble. Haven't you noticed it happens even when she isn't around?"

That last part was true. Though he knew she was the one that started all of the stairs shifting, they had continued moving even when she wasn't around them.

Madame Griselda had other ideas. "Oh be serious! We all know it was her!"

Binns had never liked the school nurse and listening to her drone on and on with the list of students injured falling off of the stairs as they moved, he liked her even less. It wasn't as if the woman had any actual proof that the girl was responsible. It wasn't even as if any of the injuries had happened with the girl near the stairs. It was when she wasn't there, when the stairs were left to their own direction that they were shifting out of the reach of the students. Besides, it wasn't as if any of the injuries were life threatening. In fact Binns found it rather amusing watching certain less attentive students start to fall off of the stairs as they rearranged themselves only to be unceremoniously thrown back up the stairs as the safety wards went into effect.

Dippet seemed equally unimpressed. He appeared to have tuned out of the conversation entirely. Unfortunately Madame Griselda seemed determined to regain Dippet's attention.

"Well? Armando?"

Dippet blinked. "Yes, certainly."

Binns made a face at the nurse as she continued ranting. "So what are you going to do? This situation cannot continue. There have only been minor injuries so far, but it is only a matter of time before someone is seriously hurt, killed even! You must take some kind of action!"

Dippet sounded lost in thought or memory as he agreed, "_Only a matter of time_."

Binns frowned. For fear of his part in the matter becoming known, he really would prefer not to have inquiries made into why exactly the girl decided to start moving all the staircases. Thankfully Dippet was seldom if ever one to address a problem head on.

"I will speak to Master Tofty in regards to modifying the wards."

In response to Madame Griselda's look of disbelief, Dippet spoke in what he must have thought was a reassuring tone. "I will speak to him immediately."

"There now, glad to have all that settled. Time for us to be going. The Headmaster is a very busy man, lots to do!"

Filled with glee, Binns pushed the exasperated school nurse towards the door before she could say anything more. When she tried to turn around, Binns gave a final shove to get her through the doorway before she could again open her big trap.

As the stairs wound downward, Madame Griselda began an interrogation of him. "Robert, you aren't fooling me. What did you do? You put that girl up to it, didn't you?"

Binns' mouth flapped open. As indignantly as he could, he replied. "Nonsense!"

As the stairs reached the bottom, Madame Griselda looked about to verbally blast him, but when the gargoyle stepped aside she thought better of it at the sight before them. Carefully avoiding contact, of the physical or eye variety, with the girl waiting expectantly by the gargoyles, Madame Griselda left.

A bit suspicious himself at the girl's presence and her expectant expression, Binns started his own interrogation. "What do you want?"

"Now Headmaster Dippet will have to tell my Tom to come back to me."

Binns snorted. Of all the scheming little…"I think not! You are going to have to do a good spot better than that…moving staircases, as if that-"

Seeing her expression fall and her eyes start to water, Binns began to panic. "There will be none of that! Crying is not going to get you your way so there is no point in doing it!"

The girl had her head down and was beginning to make sniffling noises. Binns knew he had to do something and quickly. Dippet or Dumbledore or Shackleton could be coming by at any moment. There would no doubt be trouble if they were to find him with a crying girl. Binns did the only thing he could think to do to make her stop.

"Wah! Wah! Look at the little baby crying! Wah!"

His imitation of her made the waterfall stop short. A look of shock didn't last long, it soon settled into an angry scowl.

Feeling her beady little eyes following him, a satisfied Binns made a hasty retreat. An angry disposition was much preferable to a weepy one, at least to his way of thinking.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

######################################

Albus Dumbledore nodded in greeting to Professor Tofty as he passed him in the hall on the way to his classroom. The day's classes did not start for another hour, but he had left some essays there that he wanted to go over before his first class. A few minutes later, he nodded to Professor Tofty in passing again. The third time, both men paused awkwardly.

Dumbledore was the first to break the silence. "It's the oddest thing. I could have sworn that my classroom was somewhere down this corridor."

Both men watched as Pomfrey exited a near by door. The room Pomfrey left was not a classroom, but a sitting room like the ones that adjoined the faculty bedrooms.

After Pomfrey passed, Tofty opened the door that he was standing before. It too was a small sitting room. Dumbledore went to a different door and opened it. Professor Archie, the Herbology professor, waved to him. Dumbledore closed the door after waving back.

The Head of Houses had rooms close to their Houses, but the bedrooms of all the other faculty members were together along one corridor. Clearly this corridor was now the faculty corridor.

Dumbledore wasn't really sure what exactly was going on, but he had a fairly good idea of who might be responsible. He turned to head back to Gryffindor Tower the way he had come. He planned to have a little chat with a certain young lady, but after taking a few steps he realized that things weren't going to be that easy. The doorway he had recently passed through to get to the corridor was gone, replaced by a stone wall.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Albus Dumbledore was growing a bit frustrated as he tried all the various doors he came across hoping to find the Great Hall in anticipation of dinner. He wasn't the only one having problems. Few of his students had been able to locate his classroom today. While he suspected that some of them might not have been trying as diligently as they could have, he could hardly fault them for it. After all, he hadn't been able to locate his own classroom the day before.

While the cause might not be clear, the person behind all of this seemed fairly obvious. Should he ever find Miss Grindelwald again, Dumbledore wanted to confront her. Dippet, however, had other ideas. The Headmaster was of the opinion that the girl was acting out for attention. As such, he had forbidden Dumbledore, or anyone, from rewarding her by commenting or outwardly reacting to what was going on.

So far Dippet had held to that idea even after not being able to find his office for the better part of two days. No one had heard from Pomfrey or the first year Slytherin/Gryffindor potion class for days, though there had been an unconfirmed sighting of them where the Astronomy Tower used to be.

There were only two people who weren't currently being inconvenienced by the changes in the castle; Miss Grindelwald and Professor Tofty. Dumbledore suspected that if Tofty hadn't been sorted into Ravenclaw, he would have done just as well in Slytherin. After the first morning, the crafty old fellow had managed to find his way around the castle quite easily by keeping Miss Grindelwald with him for most of the day. Kitten seemed rather fond of the old Charms professor, or at least had expressed no qualms about staying with him.

"Are you looking for Gryffindor Tower? If so, I saw it two doors ago."

Dumbledore had opened a door only to find Professor Kettleburn standing on the other side. "No, the Great Hall. I'm beginning to wonder if it even exists anymore."

"This lost its 'funness' after the first day."

Dumbledore couldn't agree more. Both men continued down the hall opening doors.

"Well here is something."

Dumbledore stood behind Kettleburn, looking over his shoulder. Not the Great Hall or even the kitchens, but Kettleburn had discovered a door leading onto the school grounds.

Kettleburn glanced back at Dumbledore. "It's a bit earlier, but would you care to accompany me to a quiet dinner in Hogsmeade or perhaps Diagon Alley?"

"At this point I'm almost ready to eat a student's familiar myself. Let's go."

Kettleburn smiled. "Not quite the kind of response I was hoping for, but for the sake of familiars everywhere, I will-"

Neither had noticed Alastor Moody approaching up the path. "What are you two standing in the doorway for?"

Realizing how the current castle situation could look to the Ministry, Dumbledore hastily put an arm around the auror's shoulder in an attempt to guide him back out the door. "We were just about to head to the Three Broomsticks for dinner. Join us."

Kettleburn wore something of a disappointed expression. "You know, I think I will stick around here, but you two go have fun."

Dumbledore knew Kettleburn wasn't too fond of Moody, but really what was he to do? He couldn't very well leave the auror to wander the castle. Besides, he had heard from one of the other professors the reason why Kettleburn disliked Moody; something about Kettleburn having seen the auror shaking Miss Grindelwald. Dumbledore was confident that that had been a misunderstanding along the lines of Tom Riddle's assertion that he had violently shaken the girl when he had only given her a light shake to try to wake her. If Kettleburn only took the time to get to know Moody a little better, surely he would see that the young auror was more sensible than that.

Moody tried to refuse. "I just came to get a report on the girl. Is the Headmaster in his office?"

That was something of a tricky question. Even if he was, good luck finding the office. "He stepped out for a bit, but we can tell you all about her last few days over dinner. Come along, Kevric."

Moody seemed about to relent as Dumbledore all but shoved him through the door. However he turned to take one last look into the castle and stopped with a puzzled expression. "The Headmaster's out you say? As in out of the castle?"

It was pretty clear from Moody's tone that he already knew the answer to his questions, so Dumbledore turned around to look. Sure enough Dippet was coming down one of the nearby staircases.

"No…I, ah, meant out of his office." Dumbledore doubted Moody found his lie very convincing.

Noticing the auror in the doorway, a very unpleased looking Dippet made his way over. "Mr. Moody, thank you for your concern, but I can assure you that all is well here at Hogwarts."

"The whole lot of you are no better at lying that that little girl is."

An uncomfortable silence followed Moody's statement, but soon all heads turned to a nearby corridor from which giggles and the sound of Professor Tofty's voice could be heard getting closer.

"So when the muggle returns with his shovel, he finds out that the leprechaun tricked him. The leprechaun tied an identical ribbon onto all of the shrubs and the muggle has no way to tell which one the treasure is buried und-" Professor Tofty stopped his story and his walking when he noticed the group silently assembled by the door.

Miss Grindelwald was of course with him and he put a protective hand on her shoulder. Whether the older professor was worried because of Moody's presence or because he feared losing his guide, Dumbledore wasn't sure. Tofty gave an uncomfortable nod. "Gentleman, if you will excuse us, we were just heading to the Great Hall for an early dinner."

Moody pushed past Dumbledore. "I will join you."

Tofty looked almost panicked as he turned to Dippet. Dumbledore couldn't help but wonder if there was some secret meaning to the other professor's words. "I _really _don't think now is a good time."

Not quite knowing what was going on, Dumbledore decided to go along as well. "I think I will join you as well."

Dippet gave a sigh of frustration. "Master Dumbledore, how many times do I have to tell you, leave the girl-"

A great deal of power was required to do the kind of magic that Miss Grindelwald had been doing lately. Power took energy and the expenditure of that much energy could be somewhat exhausting. Stifling a yawn and apparently through waiting for the others, Miss Grindelwald opened the door closest to where she was standing. That door she started to walk through traditionally led to a broom closet, but now opened into the Great Hall. Dippet's words trailed off as Moody tried and failed to put together a few of his own.

"You…she…what…that didn't used to…"

"Yes it did." Tofty's lie would have been a bit less unbelievable if he had let Moody finish his thought. "Always has. Really!"

Moody's presence seemed to be finally forcing Dippet into action. "Miss Grindelwald, I would like to have a word with you in my office."

Kettleburn tried to get Kitten to move back through the door, but she refused. "It is dinner time and I am hungry."

"I command you to go to my office at once!"

Kitten gave a wicked little smile. "Okay. I think I can find _something_ to eat there."

Dippet's jaw dropped. "I will have a plate sent up for you. Go now!" Dippet scowled watching Kettleburn lead the girl away.

Seeing that Moody was still examining the doorway, Dumbledore tried to think up a reasonable explanation. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Moody snorted before walking into the Hall. "And I'm sure you'll tell me all about it at dinner."

Before Dumbledore could enter after him, a very worried Dippet stopped him.

"Ask Mr. Hagrid to collect Mr. Keys from my office. Immediately."

#########################################

Entering his office, Armando Dippet was relieved to see Master Kettleburn had not left the girl and Mr. Keys unchaperoned.

Miss Grindelwald held up the parchment that she and Master Kettleburn had been looking at. "Would you like to see the painting I made today in Charms class?"

Dippet waved a hand to get the parchment out of his face. They all knew exactly why they were here so he got right to the point. "This is your cease and desist order. We've all had enough of this so stop doing it!"

She frowned at him and attempted to change the topic. "You were supposed to bring dinner. Did you forget?"

Dippet frowned right back. "I want you to stop moving the stairs and the classrooms."

Her only response to him was to turn away. Dippet reached out to make her look at him. It wasn't just the snapping of her teeth that made him pull back his hand after touching her.

"I want you to stop that too!"

When she wrinkled her nose at him, Master Kettleburn tried to intercede. "Armando, aren't you the one always asking 'why'? Wouldn't it be more useful to try to understand the 'why' behind this behavior, rather than just yell at her?"

Kettleburn was so young and untried. As much as Dippet would have liked to believe that there was a 'why' behind the girl's behavior, he had begun to resign himself to the strong likelihood that the girl was just evil.

Master Kettleburn was as yet unwilling to do the same. "Kitten, why are you moving the classrooms?"

Miss Grindelwald squirmed in her chair. "They were too far apart. I was getting tired walking all around the castle to get to them, so I made them closer together."

Master Kettleburn nodded. "But what about all of the other people in the castle? How are they supposed to find their classes?"

When the only answer returned was a shrug, Kettleburn pressed on. "If we keep the classrooms in the same place all the time, everyone can find their classes. When you move the classes around like that, only you can find the ones you want. Now, which one do you think sounds fair for the larger number of people?"

The girl stopped squirming. "Make my Tom take me to classes with him again."

"What?-No that's not the answer I was looking for."

Dippet interjected. "If I let you take classes with Mr. Riddle again, you will put an end to all of this?"

Miss Grindelwald nodded, but Master Kettleburn sounded extremely unpleased.

"Armando, no!"

Dippet was no more pleased than the Care of Magical Creatures instructor to be giving into the girl's demands, but what other choice was there?

Miss Grindelwald smiled. "Can we go down to the Great Hall and get my Tom now?"

"No," Kettleburn shook his head. "If you are hungry we can all eat dinner here."

At Master Kettleburn's bidding, Dippet summoned three dinner settings. He was fingering the vial of mandrake potion in his pocket when he caught sight of the girl's smile. With a sigh, to save time Dippet skipped a step and added the potion straight into his own goblet. The sound of the girl's evil cackle filled his office.

With the girl distracted, Kettleburn began badgering him again. "Dippet, you cannot do that."

When the door opened Dippet was sure it was that auror or Dumbledore come to meddle again. He was relieved to instead see it was Mr. Hagrid come to get Mr. Keys. As had become his habit when she was present, Mr. Hagrid paused to greet Miss Grindelwald first. While trying to ignore Master Kettleburn's concerns about Mr. Riddle, Dippet watched the two interact.

"I know I have stuck up for Tom in the past, but my opinion of him has changed. I don't know exactly what it is about him, but there is _something_. Dumbledore has seen it too."

Mr. Hagrid was looking at the girl's drawing. Personally Dippet didn't think the picture was all that impressive. Half of the time, the girl couldn't keep her colors within the lines but Mr. Hagrid was fawning all over it.

"I don't think that Tom is a good influence on her. He's been telling her lies about some of the professors and - you haven't listened to a word I've said, have you?"

Dippet watched horrified in more ways than one as Mr. Hagrid licked a finger and used the saliva to try to rub off a spot of paint next to the girl's ear. Strangely enough, Mr. Hagrid showed no reaction at touching her.

Suspecting at first that perhaps the girl had stopped her 'burning' for the time being, Dippet approached her in order to be certain. Hastily pulling his hand away, Dippet came to a new conclusion. Magic didn't effect giants nearly as much as humans and there was no denying that there was something exceedingly _not_ human about Mr. Hagrid.

Returning to his desk, Dippet pondered the possibility of righting a previous wrong while eliminating a present bother. From the top drawer of his desk, from beside the stores of two similar, yet very different potions, Dippet retrieved two halves of one wand. "Mr. Hagrid, I should like to ask a task of you."

As soon as his name had been spoken, Mr. Hagrid turned. His eyes widened in recognition of the objects between Dippet's fingers.

"Mr. Hagrid, it is a very important task. One for which a wand may be required." Hagrid's eyes remained fixated on the two wand halves as Dippet twirled them between his fingers. "I need someone to accompany Miss Grindelwald to her classes and ensure she does not get into any more trouble. Mr. Hagrid, do you think that you might be up to such a task?"

Mesmerized by the sight of his former wand, Hagrid walked forward. "Aye, sir. Well that's tah say I could try, sir."

"Hold on just a second, Hagrid has been expelled. Armando, you can't just give him back his wand."

Master Kettleburn was clearly impossible to please and so Dippet gave up on trying. He handed the pieces to Mr. Hagrid and moved his attentions on to the other impossible to please person in the room. "Miss Grindelwald, I think you will find Mr. Hagrid to be a suitable substitution for Mr. Riddle."

Miss Grindelwald looked decidedly undecided. "I get to keep him, instead?"

At Dippet's nod, Miss Grindelwald rose from her seat and went over to Mr. Hagrid. Mr. Hagrid just gazed down at her with a curious look as she walked around him in circles, inspecting him. Taking out her wand, she jabbed him with it a few times.

Mr. Hagrid began to chuckle. "Hey naw! Yeh, canna be doin' that! I'm ticklish!"

Miss Grindelwald seemed satisfied at last. "Okay, I will take him."

"Excellent. Mr. Hagrid, please escort Miss Grindelwald elsewhere."

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Kevric Kettleburn didn't know what to say watching Hagrid and Kitten leave the Headmaster's office. He wasn't one to go looking to try to find problems, but when he saw one, or a potential problem, he was one to speak up.

"Do you really think that is wise? Putting the two of them together?"

Dippet responded too quickly. He didn't pause long enough to leave even the impression of having given the question thought. "Certainly. I trust Mr. Hagrid implicitly. I leave Mr. Keys in his care, why ever not the girl?"

Kevric sighed. "Armando…a toad is one thing, but…given what happened to Myrtle…"

Dippet seemed to him to be deliberately avoiding his gaze. "That was a most unfortunate accident. I do not hold Mr. Hagrid responsible for it."

"Armando, I know it was not intentional, but-"

Something about the way that Dippet repeated himself made Kevric stop.

"-Mr. Hagrid was not responsible for what happened."

Watching Dippet sweep out of the room, Kevric wondered what exactly that was supposed to mean? And if Hagrid wasn't responsible then who was?

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Rubeus Hagrid was a little nervous bringing Kitten down through the dungeons to the Potions classroom. Sure, he was excited to be taking classes again, but truthfully he could have done without this class.

He had never been very good at Potions. He wasn't totally hopeless like some people, but his potions almost always came out a little bit off. Sometimes he didn't pay as much attention as he should have and stirred a bit too fast. Or too slow. Or in the wrong direction. And when a recipe called for 'a pinch' or 'a handful' of something or other, he sometimes thought that maybe whoever came up with the recipe might not have had someone his size in mind.

The old Potions professor had been real nice about accidents happening, but Hagrid had heard a few stories about the new Potions professor being not so understanding.

Kitten didn't seem to be looking forward to Potions either. "We should go to Charms again instead. Professor Tofty will let us stay and paint."

"Crikey, I'd like tah, but Professor Dumbledore gave meh a schedule fer us ter follow."

One of the threads on Kitten's robe sleeve had gone unraveled. She played with it while asking him a question. "Are you going to yell at me when my potion is not right?"

"Na unless yeh yell at meh first fer mah potion na being right."

Kitten seemed to like that answer so they made their way into the Potions room together. Professor Pomfrey was at his desk, but he looked up to see who was coming in.

"No! No!" Professor Pomfrey had a kind of panicked look on his face. "_No! No! No! _Out! Out!"

Hagrid tried to hand Professor Pomfrey the schedule that Professor Dumbledore had given him, but Professor Pomfrey put his hands in the air.

"I don't care what that says! Both of you, out! Go play outside or something, anything, but you aren't staying here!"

Hagrid was getting embarrassed with all the rest of the class staring and Kitten didn't look anymore happy than he did so he took Kitten's hand and led her back out as Professor Pomfrey suggested.

"Yeh come with meh, Kitten. I know some right fun games fer us ter play."

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Robert Binns was on the way to the Great Hall with Dippet and Shackleton. He wasn't the first to notice Miss Grindelwald. If he had been, he would have tried to get the others to go a different route to avoid her.

It was Dippet who noticed her first. "What in the name of Merlin is she doing up there?"

The girl was perched on a sconce more than two meters up in the air. Approached and asked that same question, she gave no answer.

Dippet tried again. "Where is Mr. Hagrid? He is supposed to be with you."

No response from the girl. Not even a twitch or a glance in their direction.

The Headmaster gave a cursory look around, but the assistant groundskeeper was nowhere to be found. "Miss Grindelwald, come down from there at once!"

The girl remained on the sconce.

Being as he was the one that had to sit with her at lunch, Binns was more than happy to see her remain there for all the remainder of her natural life. Maybe even longer.

Dippet however had other ideas. "Shackleton, get her down from there."

Suddenly the girl came alive. "No! I have to stay up here! Simon said so!"

Binns fumed watching Dippet turn to the Deputy Headmaster. "We don't even have a student named Simon. Do we?"

Binns had been here longer than Shackleton. Longer than Dippet even. He should have been the Deputy Headmaster; he should have been the one Dippet asked information of, not Shackleton.

Shackleton shook his head.

Binns could have sworn there was one, but…"Of course there isn't." he agreed. "I've told you, she is a horrid little liar."

Yes, Miss Grindelwald had definitely come alive. "I am not! You take that back!"

"Are too! Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too! Are too!"

"What do you know anyway? You are just a useless old relic so obees that you can't even see your own toes."

Binns stuttered. "You - you take that back! It isn't true!"

Miss Grindelwald smirked down at him from her perch. "Yes it is!"

Binns scowled. "No, it isn't! 'Obees' isn't even a word!"

By her confused expression it was clear he had her now. Binns' turn to smirk didn't last long though.

"It is too a word." She turned to Shackleton. "That _is _what you said in class?"

"You've said that about me! To your classes!"

Dippet raised an eyebrow. "Really, Shackleton, tell me you didn't."

Shackleton flushed. "Well - no, not exactly. I mean, of course I didn't."

A little voice insisted. "Yes, you did. It was only a few days ago. Do you not remember?"

Shackleton gave a little shake of his head, but not taking the hint, the voice persisted. "You said it right at the beginning of class. When-"

Binns had heard enough. His honor, his integrity had been called into question. So what if he couldn't see his toes? Why did anyone need to see his or her toes? "Armando, I demand satisfaction. A duel-"

Shackleton cried out. "-I never said that! You said it yourself, Robert. She's a horrid little liar."

"You did too!"

Looking from one horrid little liar to another horrid not-so-little liar, Binns wasn't sure whom to believe. He looked to Dippet for support, but there was none to be found.

"There will be no dueling." Dippet still couldn't get over why the girl was sitting on a sconce halfway up the wall. "And as for you, however you got up there, get back down."

Miss McGondelwald refused. "I _have_ to stay here until _Simon says _to come down."

Enough of this. This was ridiculous. He could practically taste the lunch already on the tables. "You get down here now!" He grabbed hold of one of the girl's dangling feet. He gave it a yank, trying to pull her down, but her other foot got him instead.

"You wretched little beast! She kicked me! _She kicked me_!"

Binns looked back at his companions, to be sure that they had witnessed it. He was outraged to see Shackleton chuckling.

"You think this is funny? She kicked me _in the head_!"

Shackleton snickered. "No loss there."

"No loss there! _No loss there_! You-you-"

"Really, Robert. What did you expect? You stick your finger into a Grindylow's cage, you better be prepared to lose it. She's a Themis; a beast. No more domesticatable than a Chimaera or Hagrid's thestr-"

Dippet sharply interrupted. "That's enough, Shackleton!" Dippet seemed to have finally had his fill. "Just leave her there. She'll come down on her own eventually or perhaps Mr. Hagrid will be able to get her down."

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Coming back from the boy's bathroom, Hagrid was happy to see Kitten still just where he left her.

"A'right. Simon says yeh can come down naw." Hagrid was a wee bit tall for his age. He didn't even have to stretch to take her down. "Are yeh ready ter go ter the Great Hall fer lunch, Kitten?"

Kitten shook her head. "I am not hungry. Can we go some place else instead?"

Kitten had her head down. She didn't seem nearly as excited as when they first started playing.

"I dinna see why na." He took hold of her hand. "_Simon says _let's go play outside."

Kitten had said she wasn't hungry, but after they had been sitting outside for a while, she changed her mind. She still didn't seem to want to go inside and it was such a beautiful sunny day so Hagrid set up a little outdoor picnic for them with Kitten's favorite food.

Kitten was lying on the grass. Every few minutes she would open her mouth wide to let him know she was hungry again. Hagrid would dangle a mouse down by its tail for her to eat. Sometimes Hagrid would make pretend squeaking noises and Kitten would giggle herself silly.

Hagrid thought things were going nicely. But then Tom Riddle showed up.

"Hagrid, what are you doing? Get away from her!"

"We're playin'. Havin' a bit o' a picnic lunch."

"Go play somewhere else and leave Kitten alone!"

When he stood up, Hagrid towered over Tom, but Tom didn't seem to care. "Now see here, Tom. Kitten and I ain't botherin' nobody. Headmaster Dippet said I was ter keep an eye on her an' I mean ter do like he asked me ter. If'n you have a problem with that, then yeh should take it up with the Headmaster."

Tom turned back to Kitten. "Kitten, come with me. We're leaving right now."

Kitten stood up, but she didn't make to leave with Tom. She was mad. She was real mad. She was so mad she was shaking with anger. "Y-you l-leave! I-I am s-s-s-taying h-here w-w-with-th Hagrid."

Tom's mouth went open, real wide. If he had wanted to, Hagrid was pretty sure he could have gotten a look at Tom's tonsils.

"H-H-Hagrid i-is n-n-nice! He does-does not yell at me for-for n-not being g-good at p-p-potions! He th-thinks it is okay to do cat th-things! H-he g-gives me mice to-to ch-chase and he l-lets me eat th-them!"

Tom turned to him. "What did you do to her? And what have you been feeding her?"

Tom got even more mad when Hagrid pointed to the two empty cases of ice mice on the blanket. "How many of them did you let her eat?"

Hagrid shrugged. "All o' 'em."

Tom repeated his words back to him, but a lot louder. "All of them! You let her eat two cases of ice mice? Her lips are blue! She's half frozen!"

Hagrid looked at Kitten as Tom tried to wrap the picnic blanket around her to stop her teeth from chattering. Now that he thought about it, the shaking was a lot more like shivering and maybe she had been doing it before Tom got there. "Well, I guess maybe I shouldna 'ave given her so many o' 'em, but she sure did seem tah like 'em."

"You useless halfwit!"

Kitten was a real fiery type. She exploded at Tom again. "You leave my Hagrid alone!"

"What did you call him? Don't ever call him that again! I am your Tom, he isn't your Hagrid!"

Tom tried to pick Kitten up but she moved closer to Hagrid and shook her already shaking head. "I am n-not your c-cat anymore! I b-belong t-to Hagrid now!"

Tom looked at Kitten for a bit, real stunned looking. Then reaching into his pocket for his wand, he turned to Hagrid. "You'll pay for this, Hagrid!"

Hagrid wasn't afraid of Tom. Not really. But he sure was glad to see Professor Kettleburn put a hand on Tom's shoulder.

"Everything all right here, Tom?"

Tom flinched at Professor Kettleburn's touch. Brushing off the hand, before walking away, Tom gave one last look to Kitten who was still scowling at him something fierce.

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A frustrated Rubeus Hagrid frowned and looked out the window at the trees surrounding the school. A few classes were still going on, but all of their classes were done for the day. Kitten had come up with an idea for how she thought they should spend their free afternoon. For a good half of an hour he had been trying and failing in his tries to make Kitten understand what the word 'forbidden' meant. She listened intently as he began again to explain it.

"Na, yeh see, I dinna think I'm makin' mehself clear-"

Kitten interrupted, but she was real nice about it. "Oh, I understand. The forest is forbidden - we are not _supposed_ to go in there."

Relieved to have that straightened out, Hagrid smiled. Kitten smiled back. "But let's go anyway."

"Eh?" That wasn't the kind of answer he was expecting. "Well, I dinna think that's such a good idea."

"Sure it is." Kitten answered back.

"See, I dinna think teh Professors would approve."

Kitten was quiet for just a minute, thinking on it. She soon came up with a solution. "Then we will not tell them."

"See but teh thing is Professors Dumbledore and Kettleburn, they dinna think that teh forest is fit for us tah be playin' in."

Kitten was a real quick thinker and a real good reasoner too. "I think Professor Kettleburn would like it if we went. He is always saying I should go outside to play. The sunshine would be good for me."

Well now that was true. He had heard Professor Kettleburn say a thing or two like that. Still… "Aye, but I think Professor Kettleburn is afraid some o' the critters in the forest might get a bit ornery. "

Kitten was looking at him real intent like. "You told me you go into the forest _all the time. _Has _anything_ bad ever happened to you there?"

Hagrid thought about it and well... "No, I can't say as it has."

That was all the answer Kitten had been waiting for. "We will be fine." She began tugging on him, trying to get him to the door.

Hagrid stood his ground. "Na, we canna do it. As much as I'd like tah go, I dinna think we should."

Kitten kept at him. "Just for a little while. I have a surprise that I want to show you."

"A surprise? For meh?"

Kitten nodded eagerly.

Hagrid frowned. "But its in teh forest, yeh say?"

Kitten nodded and tried to tug him to the door again.

Hagrid was very fond of surprises, but Professor Dumbledore was depending on him. He shook his head. "Na, we need tah stay here."

Kitten gave a sigh and stopped tugging. Hagrid felt disappointed too. "What kind o' a surprise is it anyway?"

"If I tell you it will not be a surprise." Kitten hesitated a moment. "I want to show you the dragons in the forest."

Hagrid knew when someone was fooling with him. "There aren't na dragons in tah forest. I've been in that forest loads of times and I aint never seen hide nor tail o' any dragons there. It's na nice tah fib."

"There _are_ dragons in the forest. And they have nests with eggs and everything!" Seeing his look of disbelief, Kitten crossed her arms in front of her. "Fine, do not believe me!"

Kitten seemed so sincere. If only there really were dragons in the forest… "Na foolin'?"

Kitten grabbed his arm and started pulling again. "Quickly, before it gets too dark to see them!"

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Trying to move off of the topic of leprechauns and onto the topic of nifflers, Kevric sighed as Davy, a muggleborn, interrupted him. He didn't mind muggleborns in theory, but in practice they could be a little trying at times.

"When are we going to learn about King Kong and the flying monkeys?"

To Kevric's way of thinking muggleborns usually had one of three responses to the revelation that magic existed.

There was the small majority that most witches and wizards got to see. The ones excited by the arrival of a professor from Hogwarts, or one of the other Wizarding schools, with an acceptance letter. They were fascinated by the whole other world that was revealed to them. Eager to experience magic first hand, they immersed themselves in all the knowledge they could find and quickly adapted to their new environment.

But not all muggleborn witches and wizards successfully made the transition to life at Hogwarts. Some muggles, like Davy, liked the idea, but had trouble adapting. Learning that witches, wizards, and magic really existed caused them to become a bit confused. If stories about witches and unicorns were true and dragons really did exist, then wasn't it equally likely that other stories they had grown up hearing were true? How could they be expected to differentiate between Santa's elves and house elves, or the bloodthirsty goblins of folklore and the not quite _as_ bloodthirsty goblins of Gringotts? It was frustrating to learn the hard way that pixies weren't always happy or helpful. All in all, it could be a confusing experience for a child of ten or eleven.

Not that being a little confused was the worst reaction possible. There were a good number of muggleborns who had the magical ability, but couldn't accept the challenge to their already established beliefs. Those were the ones you had to tread carefully with.

Like most muggles, they would do anything to not have to acknowledge that magic existed. For ordinary muggles, that was fairly easy to do. They were seldom exposed to magic and if by chance they were, it happened so rarely it was easy to discount it as something else.

It wasn't that simple for muggleborns. When their emotions ran high they often made things happen unintentionally. The more often it happened, the harder it became to reason it away.

The conflicting ideas and emotions produced could become dangerously overwhelming. More than one muggleborn had been destroyed by their unwillingness to accept the existence of magic. Some solved the dilemma by conditioning their mind, forcing it to reject and forget everything unusual that happened. Others internalized it, letting it eat away at them. There were also those that externalized their need for conformity. Unwilling or unable to accept all the things that didn't fit their preconceived notions, they tried to eliminate them from their life, sometimes by violence.

The McGonagall boy had been like that.

Muggles were funny. It was hard to try to tell in advance which way one would react. Even within the same family the reactions weren't always the same. Kevric had been one of the professors to deliver the McGonagall boy's letter and meet with his parents. Though Thomas McGonagall had wanted nothing to do with him or the letter, and the boy's parents had had a million and one questions about the Wizarding community.

Kevric hadn't paid much attention to her at the time, but thinking back he remembered that Kitten had been there that day too. Not when he took the muggle family for a tour of Hogwarts, but at the family's home. Kitten had been curled up on Mrs. McGonagall's lap, happily sleeping. When the son had had no interest in going to Hogwarts the boy's father had half jokingly requested to come in his place. The mother had accidentally woken the sleeping kitten when she reached over to clout her husband.

They had seemed like very nice people, for muggles. Yet Thomas McGonagall had gone after Hagrid with a sword.

No, a little confusion wasn't the worst response that a muggle might have.

As gently as he could, Kevric tried to let the young boy down. "Those things are just pretend. They don't really exist."

Davy ignored what he just said. "Is Batman a vampire or is he some kind of a bat/human hybrid?"

In place of again sighing, Kevric decided that since Davy was ignoring what he said, maybe the best response was just to ignore what the boy said. As he was leaning down to take out a niffler for a demonstration, from the corner of his eye he caught sight of two figures leaving the castle.

The two figures noticed him watching. Looking immensely guilty, Hagrid froze in place. Kitten on the other hand gave a cheeky little wave before grabbing Hagrid's hand and leading him straight into the Forbidden forest.

_tbc_

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A/N

Apologies, but I'm going to put the answers to the review questions and concerns together because a lot of them somewhat overlapped.

Because of the Quibbler article the students do know who Minerva's parents were, but even beyond that she hasn't doing much of anything to improve their opinion of her. To begin with, on her maternal side she comes from a line of people that, according to Tonks, parents tell their children stories about to scare them into behaving. Her father was a known murderer and the relatives of some of his victims also happen to attend Hogwarts. Add to that the fact that House loyalties always play an important part in anything happening at Hogwarts. Most Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, & Hufflepuffs probably weren't too endeared with her after she transfigured their Head of House into beetles. Slytherins were, I imagine, cheering her for that, but they certainly were not happy with her once she began frequently announcing she wanted to go to Gryffindor. Not to mention she tore a girl's nose right off her face, she bites and she always has to get her own way. Oh yeah, and she licks herself.

Admittedly, the last chapter could have been a lot darker, and that was in fact the intent of the Slytherin boys. Tom, however, interceded before things could progress that far. Personally, I just didn't see the need to make the story quite that dark…yet.

It was a short segment but there was a lot to it. These early scenes are setting the stage for a few bits to come later. For starters a new canon character was introduced in Tom's disregard of Binns' order to get rid of all of the serpents. And while Amelia passed on the chance to warn Dumbledore what was happening, she did partially redeem herself by telling Tom and leaving the problem to his discretion. As mentioned before, with the exception of the changing of the ages/dates to make it so Tom and Minerva could have been at Hogwarts at the same time, I do intend to keep the story mostly to canon. Most of the Bones family will be killed by Lord Voldemort and his supporters. There is a reason why Amelia and one of her brothers were not targeted.

Now had Amelia told Dumbledore what was going on then, or confided in him the last time he questioned her, things would have happened a lot differently. But she didn't and like her decisions or not, hopefully the reader has an idea of where they are coming from.

As for why the portrait has never said anything, I mentioned in the chapter introducing him that he cannot divulge information about what he has witnessed castle residents doing unless specifically asked to by someone in a position of authority. Unlike the portraits from Harry's time, these portraits are not allowed to idly gossip about the students, excepting of course the portal paintings which are given a great deal more leeway. If you find that explanation unlikely, just chalk it up to my wanting to have Kitten/Tom scenes and no other narrator was available. As for when, not until April or May of 1980 will Dumbledore think to ask the portrait in the Slytherin Head Boy's room questions and subsequently change the rules regarding the rights and conduct of the paintings.


	49. Chapter 49 Here There Be Dragons

_Chapter 49_

A/N Thank you Maria for taking the time to beta this and my other stories.

At the start of the last chapter I stated that there would be four more chapters including this one. In response to the multiple requests to get back to Harry's time, I'm going to truncate this story even further. I have completely eliminated what was to be the last chapter and will be wrapping up this segment in two more chapters.

The narrator 95% of the time is the person whose full name is listed first. There are a few exceptions, but the usual one is the painting formerly of Tom's room. He doesn't have a name so for the segments he narrates it takes a little reading to realize he is the narrator. A good clue is that he seldom if ever refers to Tom as anything other than 'the young man' and he refers to Dumbledore as 'the auburn haired professor.' He is generally the one that narrates the scenes with Tom and Kitten alone. To make it even easier to pick out which ones he narrates, I have _italicized_ the word '_he'_ the first time the portrait refers to himself.

Also before anyone complains about it, it is my intent for Kitten to come across as inconsistent, particularly in regards to her on again off again relationship with Tom. She is a child, her logic has serious flaws and she often lacks the emotional maturity one would expect even of an eight year old. Also, though we know in the future Tom Riddle is to become Lord Voldemort and he is currently showing some rather unpleasant traits, the reader has to keep in mind that right now he still is quite young. It is not inconsistent for him to not act or react immediately to things happening around him.

Yes, a few of the segments have a line or two lifted wholesale from the books. No, I am not going to tell you which lines or which books.

Oh, and one last thing. The scenes narrated by Hagrid are supposed to come across as poorly written. It's supposed to be a bit of the character's flavor coming across. Hagrid definitely has his charm, but he seldom if ever comes across as eloquent in the books. I'm sure he would be even less so as a youth..

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The more that Rubeus Hagrid thought about it, the more doubts he had. The forest was big, but he didn't think that it was big enough to hide dragons, and he certainly had never seen any in all the time he spent there. But even if there were dragons, how would Kitten know where they were? She didn't go outside all that much cause she claimed her mother didn't like her going out. That right there should have been enough for Hagrid to figure out that Kitten wasn't that good at telling the truth. Kitten's mother had been dead for a real long time now.

The only times Kitten had gone outside, she was with him or Professor Kettleburn. Hagrid hadn't ever brought her into the forest before and he didn't think that the chances of Professor Kettleburn having done it were very good.

Still, Kitten seemed to know exactly where she was taking him. She never hesitated at all. She walked him so far around the outside of the forest that the castle and the lake were out of sight. And then she led him around a clump of trees and stopped at a bit of a clearing.

Kitten looked around real disappointed like. "The dragons are _supposed _to be here."

Hagrid was real disappointed too. There were no dragons here and it didn't look like any ever had been there.

"Ah righty, Kitten, yeh've had yer fun. Yeh tricked meh right good. Let's get back tah teh castle before we get intah any more trouble."

Kitten frowned and it looked like her temper was going to flare again. "It is not a trick! There really are dragons here! They…just…must be…out for a walk! We need to keep looking for them!"

Kitten still seemed so sincere. Either there really were supposed to be dragons here or she was a real good liar. Not sure which it was, Hagrid watched as Kitten looked around for tracks or scorch marks or something. She was poking around in a bush when a little critter came scurrying out. It ran to hide deeper into the forest.

"Ooh! A chipmunk!" Kitten went tearing off after it.

"Wait now! Yeh come back here!"

Kitten didn't seem to be in a mood to listen.

"Kitten! Kitten!"

With a sigh, Hagrid went after her.

############################################################

Albus Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm done waiting. I'm going in now. You and the others can catch up with me when they get here."

Kettleburn, the one who had summoned him here and the only other staff member outside, disagreed. "Just wait. We all will go in together. Sending separate groups in will just make it more dangerous."

Dumbledore was beside himself. What had Hagrid been thinking, endangering Kitten by taking her into the Forbidden Forest? Besides the true werewolves, Acromantulas, and the numerous other dangerous wild creatures in the forest, there were the Centaurs to contend with. After what either Artemisia or Grindelwald had done to one of the unicorns of their herd, the Centaurs had sworn to kill any human venturing into the forest. Dumbledore wanted to believe that they would not be so unforgiving with a transgression by a child, but he doubted the Centaurs would be anymore understanding if they knew the identity of the child involved.

Kettleburn spoke again. "Shackleton's coming now."

Dumbledore turned to see that he indeed was. He called out to the Deputy Headmaster. "Where are the others?"

Shackleton shrugged. "Dippet is asleep and I couldn't get him to wake. Tofty is already gone for the day. Archie doesn't want to leave the other children unattended and Viinder doesn't want to 'tamper with the fates'. Pomfrey said, and I quote, 'like hell I am going in there'." Seeing Dumbledore's outrage and disappointment, Shackleton added something that he appeared to think was reassuring. "Binns will be along in a few minutes. He just needed to stop and get his cloak."

Dumbledore sighed at the other man's naïveté. "Binns isn't coming. Let's go."

############################################

"Kitten!"

For someone who needed to be carried everywhere, Rubeus Hagrid thought Kitten sure could run fast when she was of a mind to. He only barely managed to catch up with her cause she got caught on some pricker bushes.

"Ouchies!"

"'Ouchies' is right." Hagrid agreed as he tried to untangle her. "Careful now. Na squirmin'."

Paying him no mind, Kitten kept right on squirming. She squirmed herself right into a great big old scratch all the way across her cheek.

"See nah. I told yeh yeh shouldna squirm." Right before his eyes, the wound on her face healed leaving behind just the small line of red blood that had already escaped. "Eh now? That there's a nice trick!"

Kitten didn't seem to care. She was more interested in other things. "Did you see which way my chipmunk went?"

Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me. Hagrid got a good grip on Kitten's hand. "We need tah be getting' back tah teh castle."

The sound of leaves rustling startled Hagrid. He moved Kitten to behind him to keep her safe from whatever was coming.

##################################

Kettleburn was the one who had seen where Hagrid and Miss Grindelwald entered the forest, so Albus Dumbledore and the one other professor were following his lead.

Hearing a twig snap from behind them, Dumbledore whirled around. Why was he not surprised at what he saw scuttling behind them? "Return to the castle at once, Mr. Riddle."

"Professor Binns told me that that oaf, Hagrid, brought Kitten into the forest! I've come to help find her."

"The forest is a dangerous place. Go back to the castle at once, Tom. We don't have time for delays."

Kettleburn agreed with him. Somewhat. "_We don't have time for delay. And the forest is a dangerous place_. Far too dangerous to be sending Tom back through it alone."

"Kitten!"

The discussion came to an end with the start of Hagrid's shouts. Dumbledore and the others quickly set out in their direction.

##########################

Rubeus Hagrid gave a sigh of relief to see it was just Professor Dumbledore and some of the other professors. Still, he realized as an arrow went by, shouting in the Forbidden Forest probably hadn't been a good idea.

"Your kind does not belong here!"

As two of the forest centaurs, one red haired and the other black haired, came out from behind the trees, the three Professors moved to make a not very solid wall between them and the children.

The black haired one sounded real angry. "Why have you come here? You were warned before."

Professor Dumbledore tried to smooth things over. "We, the professors and I, know we should not be here. But the children wandered in by accident. We came in only to retrieve them. We have them and now we will be leaving."

Hagrid recognized the red haired centaur, he had seen him before. And it seemed that the red haired centaur had seen him too. "The foal that does not look like a foal has been in the forest before. He is the one that brought the Acromantulas here."

Looking at the centaurs, Professor Kettleburn whispered. "Hagrid, Tom, when I tell you to, I want you two to take Kitten and run as fast as you can back to the castle. No matter what happens, don't stop, don't slow down, and don't look back."

Professor Kettleburn's plan wasn't so good. Cause he along with everyone else was looking at the two centaurs talking to them, Kettleburn couldn't see that there were more centaurs coming over from the trees behind them. Hagrid still had Kitten half hidden behind him, but half hidden to the centaurs in front was right in front of the new centaurs.

Before Hagrid or any of the others knew it, a blond haired palomino had grabbed Kitten. "Eh now, give er back!"

Tom tried to grab at her too. "Leave her be! It's Hagrid you want! She hasn't done anything!"

The blue eyed palomino lifted Kitten up by her chin, not at all gently. His nostrils flared angrily and he reared onto his back feet, keeping her out of Tom's reach. "Lies! This one has been drinking unicorn's blood. I can smell it on her still."

"Isna true! We've na even seen any unicorns since we got here! Na a one!"

The centaur didn't seem to be hearing him. "Do you know what we do to those that would disturb the unicorns that we have sworn to protect with our very lives?"

Still being held up by her chin, Kitten couldn't speak or even shake her head in answer. But she did try to kick at the centaur. That just made him squeeze harder. Hagrid looked back to Professor Dumbledore for help, but he was busy changing looks with Professor Kettleburn.

"Ah swear, we dinna touch any o' yer unicorns! Ah swear!"

Professors Dumbledore and Kettleburn still seemed to be trying to come up with a solution when Professor Shackleton started talking. "So where is this unicorn that she slayed?" Everybody, excepting the centaurs, looked at Professor Shackleton startled. "I for one am perfectly willing to believe she did it, but where is it?"

The black haired centaur spoke to the one holding Kitten. "Firenze, the human is right. Our first task must be to look to the unicorn. It may not yet be beyond help. We must look to our unicorn herds. Find the one that has been injured."

The palomino reluctantly lowered Kitten back to the ground. Hagrid was growing hopeful that everything would work out. Until the black haired one spoke again. "We will stand watch over the two legged ones. Everyone else, inventory your herds. See which is missing. After we find the unicorn we can kill them all for daring to enter the forest and disturbing the unicorns within."

More and more centaurs had shown up either because of Hagrid's earlier shouts or because the other centaurs were in some way calling them.

While the centaurs were doing their talking, the professors were trying to come up with a plan. The professors all had wands, but they were outnumbered. While the centaurs didn't have wands, they could run faster and they had crossbows. Saying that things could get bad if fighting broke out with too many of the centaurs around, Professor Shackleton suggested waiting to act until there were only a few centaurs around.

The blond centaur was still there, keeping a real good eye on Kitten, but he turned to say something to Professor Shackleton. "We _can_ hear you." After that the centaurs even took all their wands away.

In something like shifts, the centaurs wandered off to search in the other parts of the forest. Some would wander back and then others would leave. But always Firenze, along with the black haired centaur, and enough of the others stayed to keep them put. Hagrid was worried, but let them look all they wanted to, they weren't going to find any hurt unicorns. He and Kitten hadn't bothered any of the animals in the forest, excepting the chipmunk, but Kitten hadn't even been able to catch that.

Hagrid have never known before that that many centaurs were living in the forest. He wouldn't have thought so many would all fit, but more and more of them kept coming from other parts of the forest. The centaurs took a long time checking, but of course none of them could find any unicorns hurt or missing from their own herds. When a last few centaurs arrived to say all of their unicorns were accounted for, the young palomino shook his head.

"Check again! Can you not smell the scent of blood on this one?"

Kitten wasn't paying them no mind. She was just sitting on the grass making faces as she ate some of it. But some of the other centaurs were agreeing with him. Hagrid started to say again that it wasn't possible, but all the centaurs turned when a much older centaur joined them.

"Where is the one who has caused the disturbance?"

The old centaur looked to be sizing up the professors, but the palomino was real quick to point out Kitten for him.

"She is but a foal! You say she has taken of the blood of one of our herds?"

The palomino admitted awkwardly, "All have looked to their herds. None have been found missing…but can you not smell the scent upon her?"

The old centaur stared at Kitten for a minute. Kitten hissed at him, but at least she didn't try to kick him. "She has not harmed one of the unicorns. She is a darkling."

The palomino who had been all out of sorts with Kitten earlier looked real surprised. "How can that be?" He tried to get closer for another, better look at Kitten, but she stopped eating the grass and started hissing and cat spitting at him.

Some of the other centaurs, the very same ones that had been agreeing with him a few minutes ago were looking real angry at him now for having upset Kitten. The palomino backed up and as he did, he looked sorry for having troubled her.

The word 'darkling', it seemed to mean something to the centaurs, but not to Hagrid or the others. Professor Dumbledore tried to ask about the word, but being as he only had two legs none of the centaurs could be bothered with explaining it for him.

Professor Shackleton came up with an answer easy enough. "'Dark' means evil, 'ling' means thing. It's not that hard to figure out, Albus."

Before Professor Dumbledore could say anything back, the old centaur started talking again. "What once was taken has been returned. Return their wands. The two legged ones are to be allowed to return to their castle unharmed."

Hagrid sighed suddenly feeling much better. He went to pick Kitten up, but the centaur spoke again.

"The darkling is to remain here; she will live in the forest again."

Professor Shackleton asked a question to be sure he understood. "We get to leave, unharmed, and you get to keep the girl."

At the centaur's nod, Professor Shackleton shrugged. "Well that sounds fair to me."

Hagrid had never heard Professor Dumbledore curse before. "Damn it, Shackleton!"

The old centaur set his attention on Kitten again. "You are to return as part of the Herd that we centaurs have sworn to protect. You may pick from any of the centaurs present. The centaur of your choosing will add you to his herd. He will ensure you are kept well fed, and look to your safety and care."

Hagrid watched all the centaurs puff out their chests and swish their tails. He wondered if they knew Kitten was pretty likely to attack their tails if they kept moving them. They kind of reminded him of Veela, the way they kept tossing their manes.

Kitten just wasn't interested. She took Hagrid's hand. "That is what I have my Hagrid for. My Hagrid does all those things."

The old centaur looked at him, sort of sizing him up now. Hagrid turned beet red when he spoke.

"Though he is two-legged, he clearly is not human-" Hagrid would always wonder afterwards if maybe the old centaur was going to say something more or different, maybe say no to Kitten's pick or say something to try to get her to change her mind.

But the black haired centaur interrupted him. "He is human enough!"

"Do not speak against me again, Bane."

"You cannot let him keep her!"

Hagrid was fond of beasts of all kinds and he knew all sorts of things about them and their ways. Most creatures weren't like people. They didn't try to talk things over or decide as a group. He knew about the need of setting up a certain order and keeping it. And he knew the way creatures kept in charge, but the old centaur had seemed so nice and wise, so somehow Hagrid hadn't expected what happened next.

The old centaur started to fight the dark haired centaur. Even after he knocked him to the ground, over and over he kept hitting him with his hooves. Hagrid picked Kitten up and turned her so she couldn't watch it all happening. He couldn't help thinking that if the old centaur hadn't shown up, that might have been what the other centaurs had in mind for Kitten and maybe all of them.

After a while, long after Bane had stopped trying to fight back, maybe a short while after he stopped trying to move at all, when he just laid there bleeding, the other centaur finally quit hitting him. "Does anyone else want to discuss my decision?"

The other centaurs kept quiet and very still. None dared to even look at the old centaur.

Hagrid flinched and held on tight to Kitten when the old centaur turned to him again. "The darkling, like all those we care for in the forest, is free to come and go as she pleases. You may return to the forest at anytime for aid or advice in her keeping."

Hagrid felt Professor Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder. Still carrying Kitten, Hagrid followed as Professor Dumbledore led them all back to the castle. He didn't set her down again until they were in the castle and the door was closed behind them. As soon as he did, Kitten started to head to the Great Hall where dinner was almost finished being served.

Professor Dumbledore shook his head. "Miss Grindelwald, Hagrid, go wait in my office. I will be there in a moment to speak to both of you."

Kitten didn't seem to pick up on the seriousness in Professor Dumbledore's voice. "Dinner is almost over. If we do not go in now, we will miss it."

"Miss Grindelwald, not to worry I will have something sent up for you from the kitchens later."

Hagrid knew there was already going to be trouble enough, he didn't want to have anymore. He tugged on Kitten to move her along. Going up the stairs, Kitten let him in on a little secret. Hagrid wasn't too surprised to discover she had just been trying to cause trouble.

"I am not really hungry. That grass was very filling."

#########################################

After everything that had happened, Albus Dumbledore wanted, no needed, a moment to calm himself before following after his two young Gryffindors. Unfortunately, it seemed Tom Riddle was not about to let him have it.

"What are you going to do about Hagrid? Surely you aren't going to let him continue to be around Kitten after the danger he put her in today!"

"Mr. Riddle, their punishment is of no concern to you. As your intentions were noble I will not be requesting to your Head of House that you be disciplined for going into the forest." Not that Dumbledore really thought it would matter even if he did make such a suggestion to Binns. After all if Tom were to be believed, Robert had been the one to inform Tom about the group going into the forest.

"But what about Hagrid?"

"Again Mr. Riddle, that is none of your concern. Now, I suggest you remove yourself to the Great Hall for dinner before I reconsider my decision about seeking out Professor Binns."

Leaving Tom to stew in his resentment, Dumbledore began making his way to his office.

#########################################

Rubeus Hagrid stepped into Professor Dumbledore's office to wait reluctantly. He had been in there lots of times before and usually it was a nice place to be, what with all the interesting things of Professor Dumbledore's to look at and all, but this time was different. Today Hagrid was too upset about all of the trouble he was in to be interested in anything else.

He knew he shouldn't have taken Kitten into the forest, but he just didn't think anything bad like that would happen. He could tell Professor Dumbledore was upset with him. Hagrid felt real bad for letting Professor Dumbledore down. Professor Dumbledore had always been real nice to him, like when his dad died and when he was expelled. It was Professor Dumbledore that stuck up for him and talked Headmaster Dippet into letting him stay on at Hogwarts.

Of course now they couldn't possibly let him stay on. Hagrid's eyes teared up as he thought about what was going to happen to him. He didn't have any family left. Well there was his mum, but he didn't really know where she was. Where would he go? What would he do? He tried not to think about it, but try as he might, it was all he could think of.

As his stomach gave a loud rumble he realized maybe it wasn't quite all that he could think about.

Kitten was looking at him with her head kind of tilted. "Why are you crying?"

He didn't want to upset her by telling her that he was frightened about being fired and sent away, so brushing away his tears, Hagrid fibbed. "Oh, I was just thinkin' that Professor Dumbledore, he dinna remember teh send up dinner fer us like he said he was goin' tah."

Looking at him, Kitten seemed real concerned, not about dinner, but about him being so bothered by it. But then as she looked around the room she smiled and pointed past Professor Dumbledore's desk.

"Do not cry, my Hagrid. He did remember. He left us a turkey bird. We just have to catch it."

Looking to where Kitten pointed, Hagrid saw Fawkes perched on one of Professor Dumbledore's bookcases. Fawkes looked indigine…indigna…indigne…not too happy to be called a turkey, but Hagrid couldn't help but smile.

"Eh that's na quite a turkey. That's Fawkes. He's a phoenix."

Kitten shrugged. "Close enough. I can catch him for you."

As Kitten climbed up onto Professor Dumbledore's desk, Hagrid shook his head. "I dinna think this is such a good idea."

Kitten still didn't seem to be of a mind to listen to anyone else's ideas. "Sure it is."

Fawkes let out a few squawks watching Kitten crouch down, getting ready to attack.

"He _sounds _like a turkey to me."

"I really dinna think we should-"

As Kitten sprang off the desk towards him, Fawkes gave a final shriek and disappeared in a burst of flames. Hagrid reached out and grabbed Kitten in midair by the collar of her robes before she could hit the bookcase.

"Did you know turkeys could do that?"

"Eh well turkeys, na, I dinna, but-" Hagrid started to explain, but went quiet as Professor Dumbledore came back into the room.

"What is going on in here?"

###############################################

Albus Dumbledore peered at Hagrid over the tops of his half-moon glasses. He had expected better of him. He was aware of and had in the past tried to discourage Hagrid's forays into the forest, but he never dreamed Hagrid would put young Miss Grindelwald into harms way by taking her with him. With the disappointment clearly discernable in his voice, Dumbledore began to speak. "Hagrid-"

That was as much as he was able to get out before Hagrid burst into tears. Hagrid's loud howls drowned out anything else he might have had to say. "I'm sorry, Professor! I know I shouldna taken her into teh forest! I'll go pack me things and be off!"

Over Hagrid's wails Dumbledore tried to make himself heard, but he wasn't very effective. "Hagrid, settle down." Hagrid just wailed all the louder.

Kitten appeared both alarmed and confused at what was going on. Given the increase in volume after his words, it seemed she thought Dumbledore was the one responsible for Hagrid being upset. "You leave him alone you big meanie! It was my idea. I was the one who wanted to go into the forest. You leave my Hagrid alone!"

"Don't call him that! He isn't your Hagrid!" Tom entered the room right behind him. Was no one planning to listen to him today?

"Everyone settle down! Hagrid, Miss Grindelwald, take a seat."

Hagrid sat down, but Miss Grindelwald remained standing next to Hagrid, guarding him. With a sigh, Dumbledore repeated himself with equally no effect.

This situation was quickly getting out of hand. Kitten's willingness to take responsibility for her actions was commendable, her concern for Hagrid was quite touching, and certainly Dumbledore could understand her being confused by Hagrid's response, but there was no question about it. Were she any other student he would already have issued her a detention. And so…

"Miss Grindelwald, you may return to your rooms now and have dinner there. I will be by in an hour to collect you for what I suspect will be the first of many detentions."

Still angry and very unclear on what was going on, Kitten refused. "No! I will not! I do not have to listen to you! You are not Simon; I do not have to do what you say!"

Kitten's first outburst had helped to either calm Hagrid or at least shock him into stopping his tears and the noise that came with it. He shook his head and whispered loudly. "Yeh need teh listen teh Professor Dumbledore. _Simon says _yeh should listen teh Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but it did seem to mean something to Miss Grindelwald. She frowned and questioned Hagrid. "Are you sure he said that?" After Hagrid's solemn nod, Kitten sighed and headed for the door.

Tom became incensed. "You can't give her a detention! It was Hagrid's fault! You shouldn't punish her! You should fire Hagrid, send him away!"

Whatever tranquility had been regained quickly evaporated with Tom's suggestion. Hagrid's howls again filled the room. Given the clear sounds of Hagrid's remorse, Dumbledore thought it safe to assume Hagrid had learned his lesson. Further punishment would serve no purpose but to torment the boy.

"Hagrid, you may return to your cabin now. There will be no further discussion of this afternoon's events."

Hagrid gratefully departed.

A practically spitting Tom remained. "That's it? Hagrid takes Kitten into the forest where she could have been, practically was, killed or…worse by those despicable…" Momentarily, Tom was too angry for words. "She gets a detention and Hagrid just gets to leave?"

Dumbledore sighed. This really wasn't something he should have to explain and he didn't mean because he was the teacher and Riddle was the student. "Mr. Riddle, the difference is that unlike Miss Grindelwald, Hagrid seemed genuinely remorseful for what he did."

Dumbledore shook his head while watching the still quite furious Mr. Riddle walk away.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Albus Dumbledore ushered Miss Grindelwald through the door of the trophy room. He took a few of the smaller trophies off of the shelves and opened up a new container of Mrs. Skower's All Purpose Magical Silver Polish.

"For the next hour I would like you to polish these trophies _without_ the use of your wand. I don't expect them to be perfect, but do as best as you can. I will be back in a bit to check on your progress."

Closing the door behind him as he left, Dumbledore felt satisfied. He didn't want to be overly harsh and yet he doubted the writing of lines would convey to Kitten the seriousness of her actions. He had thought about it for a while and in the end decided this would be a suitable punishment. Polishing the trophies by hand certainly wasn't enjoyable, but it was actually a fairly mild punishment. And yet, he felt a small sense of unease.

Turning around, he cast a spell to allow him to see inside the room, but remain himself unobserved. He looked in just in time to see Miss Grindelwald dip her finger into the jar of polish. Dumbledore wasn't terribly alarmed watching her sniff the polish on her finger, but he was alarmed seeing her lick the polish off of her finger.

Rather certain that that was a purpose Mrs. Skower had not envisioned, Dumbledore rushed back into the room. Grabbing both the girl and the jar of polish, he raced to Kettleburn's office.

"Albus, what's going on?"

Setting Kitten down on Kettleburn's desk, Dumbledore explained. "She ate silver polish."

Kitten scowled at him. "_Nobody _likes a tattletale."

Kettleburn glanced at Kitten. "You ate silver polish?"

Kitten shook her head. Kettleburn looked back at him. "Are you sure she ate it?"

Dumbledore frowned at the girl for lying. "I watched her do it."

When Kettleburn again looked to Kitten she made a suggestion. "Maybe it was somebody who _looks_ like me." Seeing that Kettleburn didn't believe her, Kitten tried again. "He gave it to me."

Dumbledore was beside himself. "But I didn't say to eat it!"

Kitten folded her arms across her chest. "You never said not to!"

Absolutely bewildered, Dumbledore just stared at the child as Kettleburn asked another question. "Is that the polish she ate?"

At Dumbledore's nod, Kettleburn took the jar. Starting to read the label, Kettleburn asked yet another question. "Do you know how much of it she ate?"

"Just a little bit."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely certain. I watched her eat it."

Finished reading, Kettleburn again spoke. "So let me see if I have this straight, Albus. You gave her a jar of silver polish and let her eat it?"

"What? No! I didn't _let_ her eat it."

"No of course not. You gave her a jar of polish, didn't say she shouldn't eat it and then you just watched her eat it, without doing anything to try to stop her."

"Well, yes but…" This was unbelievable. "I…she…that…it's not the way it happen-"

Kettleburn chuckled. "Calm down, Albus. I was teasing. The polish is made mostly of murtlap, fluxweed, some leaping toadstool, and nettles. The worst that can happen is her ear hair will turn purple."

While Dumbledore gave a relieved, but exasperated sigh, Kettleburn turned his attentions back to Kitten. "Why did you eat the polish? Were you hungry? Didn't you have dinner?"

Dumbledore knew she had chosen not to eat very much of it, but he had had dinner delivered to her rooms. Kitten shrugged. "I liked the smell. I wanted to try it, to see what it tasted like."

Kettleburn frowned. "Why haven't you ever 'just wanted to try' the vegetables at dinner?" That didn't get an answer so Kettleburn's questions moved on. "Did you like how it tasted?"

Kitten shook her head.

"So you aren't going to do it again, are you?"

Kitten stared at Kettleburn, thinking about it for a moment before solemnly answering. "I might. I have not made up my mind yet."

Kettleburn sighed and tousled her hair. "Don't eat silver polish. I think you have a detention to finish."

It had been an exceptionally long day. Bringing Kitten and the polish back to the trophy room, Dumbledore wanted nothing more than to go back to Gryffindor Tower, crawl into bed and pretend this day had never happened. But as much as he would like to do that, letting Miss Grindelwald out of her detention because she had further misbehaved would not leave her with the kind of impression he wanted her to have.

When they arrived he looked around for the smallest plaque he could find. About the size of his hand, not very tarnished to begin with, silver only on one side with wood on the other, it shouldn't take more than a few minutes to polish.

"It is getting late and I am sure you are tired so let's simplify this. You are to stay here until this plaque is shiny enough to see your reflection in it. Am I understood?"

"Can I leave to use the bathroom?"

Dumbledore frowned slightly. Was this another stalling tactic? The plaque really didn't need much work. He could already see his reflection in it. There were just a few spots that were beginning to tarnish on one of the edges. It really should not be the kind of project that took long enough to require bathroom breaks. Still, when you have to go, you have to go. He acquiesced.

"Yes, I suppose, but I want you to come back right after. There is a girl's room right down the hall."

He thought it was the answer she wanted yet Kitten looked almost panicked. With her head down she spoke so softly he had to strain to hear what she was saying.

"That is Myrtle's bathroom."

Comprehension came quickly to him for once; Miss Grindelwald was afraid of ghosts.

"Of course, that bathroom isn't very nice. It floods often. There is another one up the stairs and just a bit further down the hall. That one is much nicer." Lest Miss Grindelwald get the wrong impression, he quickly amended his statement. "Well, or so I hear. Perhaps you would prefer to use that one?"

Kitten looked up at him and nodded eagerly.

Dumbledore smiled. "Well with that settled, I will leave you to your work. I will be in my office. Notify me when you are done and I will come inspect your work."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Half an hour later a weary and wary Albus Dumbledore rubbed the bridge of his nose before putting his half-moon spectacles back on. It was well past the time Miss Grindelwald should have been by to collect him. More than a little apprehensive at what he would find this time, Dumbledore made his way back to the trophy room.

The plaque was exactly where and as he had left it, but Miss Grindelwald was nowhere to be seen. Disappointed and frustrated to have again been disobeyed, Dumbledore turned to leave in search of the girl. Finding her coming round the corner, apparently returning to the trophy room, Dumbledore was pleasantly surprised. At least until he caught sight of the duvet she was dragging on the floor behind her. On the blanket were all the candies, art supplies, and pillows that usually adorned her bedroom.

Momentarily shocked into silence, Dumbledore said nothing as she walked by him and back into the trophy room. Watching her carefully reassemble her confectionary towers up around the room, Dumbledore realized that most of the boxes, well to be more precise all of the boxes he noticed, were as yet unopened. As odd as that struck him, he really didn't have the time or the energy to muse too much on it at the moment.

Finding his voice he asked, "What are you doing?"

"I am going to live here now so I brought all of my things here."

Dumbledore knew he had to be missing something. "But you aren't going to be staying here permanently, just until you polish the plaque."

Kitten scratched her head and seemingly missing his point, searched for the best spot to keep her drawing supplies.

Dumbledore tried again. "You don't need to move all of your possessions here. As soon as that one plaque is polished, you get to return to your room in Gryffindor Tower."

Kitten didn't seem to understand. She just kept unpacking.

Dumbledore held up the plaque in question. "You only need to stay here, in the trophy room, until this _one_ plaque is polished. Why are you still unpacking?"

Kitten paused and looked at him as she calmly explained her reasoning. "You said I need to stay here until the plaque is polished and I do not want to polish the plaque so I am just going to live here now."

"I…I…" He didn't really have a response for that. This day was just getting worse and worse as it went along. "I just want you to polish the plaque. You don't have to live here. It's your detention. I…I _just_ want you to polish the plaque."

Kitten gave a shake of her head. "I do not want to polish. You gave me a choice and I would prefer to just stay here and not polish the plaque."

She was being very pleasant about it. She came across as very calm, there was no yelling or threatening. Dumbledore again tried to reason with her. "It's a very small plaque. It will only take a minute, maybe two to polish. It is your punishment for going into the forest."

"But I do not want to polish. As my punishment I would rather just stay here instead."

"You can't do that. Your punishment _is _the polishing of the plaque."

Kitten frowned. "You said that I had to stay here until the plaque was polished. I will stay here and just never, ever, ever polish anything."

She seemed sincere. He really didn't get the idea that she was just toying with him. Dumbledore had an idea. "Simon…Simon wants you to polish the plaque and then go back to Gryffindor Tower. He told me."

Kitten paused, scratching and thinking very carefully before responding. "I do not like Simon anymore. He is too bossy, always telling me what to do. Simon never asks what I want to do. I am not going to listen to him anymore."

It was late and he was out of ideas. "Miss Grindelwald, let's head back to your room in Gryffindor Tower and sort this out in the morning."

She shook her head, but Dumbledore reached for her hand anyway. He would lead her back and tomorrow- Dumbledore pulled his hand back sharply.

Frowning, he checked his hand to see if it had actually been burned. Clearly Miss Grindelwald had no intention of returning to Gryffindor Tower this evening. Growing a bit desperate and not knowing what else to do, Dumbledore went for reinforcements. He explained the situation to Kettleburn as best he could on the walk back to the trophy room.

By the time they returned Kitten had moved all the pillows into one corner of the room. Watching her rub her eyes as she spread the blanket in the same corner, Dumbledore couldn't figure out what she was up to. "What is she doing now?" Dumbledore didn't realize he had spoken aloud until Kettleburn answered.

"I could be wrong, but I think she is building a nest."

Dumbledore repeated the word in disbelief. "A nest?"

Listening to the Care of Magical Creatures professor, Dumbledore suppressed a sigh. "Stone floors can get awfully cold and she will need someplace warm to sleep if she is going to live in the trophy room."

Kettleburn moved into the room to get Kitten's attention and a better look. Dumbledore believed his colleague seemed far too amused by this all. "You know I always imagined that Professor Dumbledore's rooms would look _exactly _like this, candy bars and awards everywhere."

Not getting a laugh from either of them and perhaps realizing he wasn't being as helpful as Dumbledore had hoped, Kettleburn moved the conversation on. "So what's going on Kitten? Why are you moving all of your things into the trophy room?"

"I do not want to polish the silver. If I stay here I do not have to."

"Professor Dumbledore told you to polish the silver for your detention. Why don't you want to do it?"

"I do not like to polish. Maybe some other people do, but I am not a polishing kind of person."

"Have you tried polishing before?"

Kitten gave a small shake of her head.

"So how do you know you wouldn't like it?"

Kitten was apparently too tired to be bothered answering that question.

Watching Kitten lay down on her makeshift bed Dumbledore tried to think of an explanation. Surely this wasn't really about polishing. Was it?

Had something happened to cause Miss Grindelwald to change her mind about being a Gryffindor? He knew many of the students, including his Gryffindors, were a bit uneasy around her. But as far as he had seen it hadn't progressed any further than that. Still, he knew the students' conduct was often very different when none of the professors were around. As much as he didn't like the possibility, he had to acknowledge it.

"Miss Grindelwald, how have the other students been treating you?"

Concentrating on rubbing her eyes, Kitten ignored the question.

Dumbledore tried to rephrase the question. "What I mean to ask is, has anyone been mistreating you?"

The only answer he received from her was a very sleepy yawn, but Kettleburn tried to interrupt him and get his attention. "Albus-" Dumbledore waved him off with his hand.

"Kitten, if someone has been bothering you, I would like you to tell me."

Kettleburn interjected. "Albus, right now _you_ arebothering her. With questions like that, all you are doing is confusing her."

Looking at Kitten, Dumbledore had to agree. Resting her head against one of her pillows and fidgeting with the blanket while her eyes darted back and forth between him and the blanket trim, Kitten looked more than a bit puzzled. He allowed Kettleburn to lead him out of the trophy room.

"Maybe some of the other students have been bothering her, maybe the problem really is that she isn't a 'polishing kind of person'; with Kitten, honestly I'm not sure. But what I am sure of is that it is late and she is tired. Even if she weren't, as strong willed as she is, I doubt you would get anywhere with her, but if you try to press it with her now you won't ever get anywhere on the subject. Let her stay here tonight and in the morning, when she is rested and more reasonable we can work it out."

At the time it _sounded_ like a reasonable course of action. Dumbledore reluctantly nodded his approval and warded the entrance. However the following morning Kitten was well rested, but no more ready to be reasoned with than the night before. In fact, letting her stay the first night served only to cement her resolve.

A rather abashed Kettleburn later admitted that, "In retrospect, allowing Kitten to stay that first night might have set a bad precedent." But beyond that he proved to be of little help in remedying the housing situation.

But of course that first night watching Kettleburn re-enter the room to conjure a second blanket for the already sleeping Miss Grindelwald and place a warming charm on the floor, Dumbledore thought it sounded like a reasonable idea.

#######################################

As _he _watched the auburn haired professor approach the portal painting, he noticed the professor lacked his customary twinkle.

"The evening report, if you will, Sir Cadogan."

The portal painting's resident drew himself up importantly. "All accounted for but one! The Head Girl is missing!"

The auburn haired professor sighed. "Miss Grindelwald is not the Head Girl." There was a pause, an almost awkward one, before the auburn haired professor continued. "And I don't know that she will be returning. At least not this evening."

Sir Cadogan plunged his lance into the ground and cried out. "Gone back to Slytherin!"

As he shivered at his memories of a particular room of that other house, he could hear Sir Cadogan venting the knight-errant's own frustrations at the girl's decision. "Lousy, no good turncoat!"

"She hasn't returned to Slytherin."

He felt no small measure of relief, but Sir Cadogan's ire was unmitigated. "Gone to Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, just as disloyal and dishonorable-"

"She hasn't gone to one of them either."

The portal painting was not the only one uncertain of what that meant. Sir Cadogan leaned against his lance. "Sorry, not quite following you there."

"She's gone to live in the trophy room."

"The trophy room? Oh right, the trophy room. Would have been my next guess."

The auburn haired professor gave a sigh and began to walk away.

"No, really! It was my next guess!"

Sir Cadogan turned to him. "It was! You believe me, don't you?"

Ignoring the knight-errant, he made his way through various frames to the trophy room.

#####################################

"Nundu."

"Back you foul, festering, filth!" Sir Cadogan pointed his lance at the dark haired boy. "Be gone, you don't belong here!"

Sir Cadogan tried to hide his grin at the Head Boy's scowl. He never let the Headmaster in. He seldom let the Head of Gryffindor in, or any Gryffindor for that matter. Password or not, did Tom Riddle really expect to be let in?

"You must allow me passage. I am a newly knighted…knight."

Sir Cadogan's eyes glistened with pride. "Carry on! Carry on!" He swung partially open, but then paused, curious. "What Order?"

"Order?"

"Yes, Order. What Order of Knights do you belong to?"

Sir Riddle didn't answer right away. He looked all around the hallway, no doubt to be certain there were no spies to overhear. "Walpurgis. I am a Knight of Walpurgis."

Sir Cadogan had never before heard of the Knights of Walpurgis, but no doubt they were a gallant and chivalrous Order. He allowed Sir Riddle entrance, but his fellow Knight didn't remain inside long.

"Why isn't Kitten in her rooms? It's nearly ten. Dumbledore better not still have her in detention!"

Sir Cadogan leaned against his lance. He hadn't had much luck getting it unstuck from the grass. "Oh, she doesn't live here anymore."

Sir Riddle's blue eyes danced with excitement. "She's gone back to Slytherin!"

Hard news was easier to take from a fellow Knight. "Well, no, not exactly. She lives in the trophy room now."

Sir Riddle's eyes flashed angrily. He was not taking the news well at all. "This time Dumbledore has gone too far!"

"It's for the best really. I can't say as I am surprised. Why just the other day I was say-"

As Sir Riddle cantered off towards the trophy room, for the first time Sir Cadogan noticed the calendar on the far wall, at the exact spot Sir Riddle had been looking at when he named the Order to which he belonged. Noticing the date displayed on the calendar, April 30, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. That was the Night of Walpurgis.

Sir Cadogan momentarily began to doubt the word of _Sir Riddle_, but then he had an epiphany. This was the month of June. Surely no one would accidentally forget to change the pages of the calendar for that long. Clearly the calendar was kept as a secret message for those loyal to the Order of Walpurgis.

#####################################

Not long after _he_ had arrived in the trophy room the young man came looking for the girl. Moving into the room, the young man looked horrified to discover her curled up in a corner of the room.

Brushing back the hair that in her sleep had fallen over her eyes, he tried to wake her. "Kitten, it's past your bedtime. What are you doing in the trophy room? What are all of these things doing here?"

The girl nestled towards him with her eyes still closed. "This is my new room."

"Kitten, you can't live here. This is the trophy room."

Between yawns the girl explained. "Professor Dumbledore said to stay here until I finish polishing, but I am going to live here instead of polishing."

"Dumbledore can't ask you to polish the silver. That's elf work. It's completely beneath you. And he can't make you stay here. Come with me."

Eyes still closed, the girl scratched her head before groggily refusing. "I am tired, my Tom."

"I know, Kitten. It won't take long. We'll just go tell Professor Kettleburn and Headmaster Dippet what's happen-"

"Professor Kettleburn was already here and knows what is happening." The auburn haired professor had arrived unnoticed. At first he found the professor's arrival so soon after the young man's to be odd.

The young man stood to express his dissatisfaction with the professor. "You can't keep her here! She hasn't done anything. It was all Hagrid's fault!"

The auburn haired professor held up a hand to silence the young man. "Miss Grindelwald, do you require anything?"

Having already fallen back to sleep, the girl gave no response. The professor beckoned the young man into the hallway. "Mr. Riddle, Miss Grindelwald has _chosen _to remain in the trophy room, I hope temporarily. This is a matter between Miss Grindelwald and myself. It is after curfew. Unless you would like a detention as well, I suggest you find your way back to your dormitory."

The professor watched the young man reluctantly slink off. The reasoning behind the timing of his arrival became clear as he took out his wand and recast a ward around the door. Making one last examination of the room and it's sleeping occupant, the auburn professor departed.

Not surprisingly, as soon as the clicking noise of the professor's boots faded out of hearing the young man returned. Sitting with his back against the wall, the young man remained watching the door throughout the night.

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#####################################

Stifling a yawn, Albus Dumbledore pulled his dressing gown tighter around himself in an attempt to keep out the chill night air. Though it was early summer, the castle could still get quite cool during the late night hours.

He was almost to the trophy room, for another check on Miss Grindelwald, when he had to pause to avoid stepping on the slumped form in the hallway. The night was moonless and Dumbledore would never have noticed the sleeping Tom Riddle in time to avoid tripping over him had he not known of Tom's presence in advance. He was aware that since the very first night Tom had remained outside the door of the trophy room as Miss Grindelwald slept inside.

Dumbledore had placed a seal on the door to notify him should Miss Grindelwald leave or anyone else enter the room. Still he feared her waking in the night, disoriented or confused to find herself alone, and so he made the trek to the trophy room several times a night to check on her.

As much as Dumbledore had reservations about Riddle, the girl seemed quite attached to him. Dumbledore knew he should have woken Riddle up and sent him back to the dungeons with a detention for being out of his dormitories well after hours, but despite his better judgment, he allowed him to remain. Dumbledore had a responsibility to his other students still in Gryffindor Tower and not even he had the ability to be in two places at once. At least this way if Kitten had a bad dream or awoke during the night, Tom would be there to comfort her until he could get there.

After quietly refreshing the warming charms on the floor beneath both of the sleeping students, Dumbledore headed back to his own rooms.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Tired of Binns, Albus Dumbledore departed the Faculty room and headed for the trophy room. Binns' taunting remarks weren't the _real_ reason why after several days he had finally decided enough was enough. Nor were Dippet's sharp words at the breakfast table the cause. Both were just added impetus.

Approaching the trophy room Dumbledore hadn't any new strategies, but he felt the need to again try to reason with her. Kitten glanced at him but said nothing as he entered, so for a time he stood quietly observing as she lay on the floor painting. He hoped she would be the one to break the silence, but at last his curiosity got the better of him.

"Have you changed your mind about being a Gryffindor?"

Still concentrated on her work, Kitten shook her head.

Dumbledore tried again. "You know if you have I won't be angry."

Disappointed? Yes. Relieved? Never would he actually admit it, but perhaps a little. He had never agreed with Binns' decisions before and certainly he still did not, but now it was a little easier to appreciate how effortlessly a situation could spiral out of control when Miss Grindelwald was involved. But as for angry? No.

"If you have decided you wish to return to Slytherin House you can tell me and I will make the arrangements."

"I want to stay in Gryffindor."

Dumbledore nodded, trying to make sense of it. "You want to stay in Gryffindor and I know Tom has been pressuring you to move back to Slytherin. Are you staying in the trophy room because you think it is a compromise that Tom would prefer?"

Kitten frowned. "I do not believe in compromising. I like my way and no other."

That was becoming clearer and clearer each day. "If you want to stay in Gryffindor, then why are you staying here?"

The look Kitten gave him in response was quite reminiscent of the one he had received for throwing stones into the lake. "You _said_ I had to."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, I _said _you had to stay here _until _the plaque was polished."

"I do not want to polish the plaque."

Dumbledore spoke very slowly and clearly so as not to be misunderstood. "That's perfectly understandable. _You aren't supposed to want to polish the plaque. _But it is something you _have_ to do. It is your punishment for going into the forest."

Alas, Miss Grindelwald disagreed and this was where they came to a parting of the ways. "I do not _have_ to do something if I do not want to and you should not try to make me."

That may well be true if this were something more serious, but they were talking about polishing a plaque. Or at least he was. Was she? For the life of him he couldn't understand the way her mind worked. Was this really about a plaque to her? "Why won't you polish the plaque?"

Kitten vigorously scratched her head while answering. It was a nervous habit he had noticed her doing a lot of lately. "I am never going to do it. You should just stop asking."

Dumbledore wanted to understand. He struggled to understand, but he simply couldn't. "_Why_ don't you want to polish?"

"I just do not."

"But why not?"

"It does not interest me. I am not going to do something if it does not interest me."

"So there is no other reason? You really are refusing simply because you don't want to polish?"

Kitten nodded.

If she were to be believed, this could be progress, of a sort. "All right. What kinds of things _do you like to do_?"

Kitten lay on her back staring at the ceiling while she contemplated the answer to his question. Dumbledore found most of her responses none too reassuring. "I like to go into the Forbidden Forest. I like to make Headmaster Dippet drink the mandrake potion instead of me. I like to eat mice and play with my Hagrid. I like my Tom. I like to draw and paint."

That last one gave Dumbledore an idea. It was a Binns worthy idea, but at this point he was willing to try most anything. "Polishing silver is quite a lot like painting. You add a few spots of polish and then you mix it, blend it around. You should try it. It might be something you like."

Kitten's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I think you are trying to trick me."

Making the suggestion had been a miscalculation on his part and it brought about an end to any further conversation on the matter.

At this point, Dumbledore wanted to forget about being consistent and give in just to get her moved out of the trophy room. Not wanting to give up his principles quite that easily, with a sigh, he decided that he would wait for at least a small sign of effort on her part. The obvious problem with that plan was that he could already foresee it being a very long time before this rather obstinate child might make any kind of an effort. He was beginning to believe the problem might be that she truly just did not want to polish.

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##################################

In the very short time it had taken for the young man to use the nearby facilities, the Avery boy had already been lurking around. The young man quickly ordered him away.

"Avery, what have I told you about coming here?"

The other's response was not very believable. "I was just passing by on my way to the Astronomy Tower."

"Next time take the short route."

"Come off it Tom. Give up. If it's not going to be me it's going to be someone else. You can't stay here twenty-four hours a day."

Seeing the young man reach for his wand, the boy hurried away. Still, the young man seemed to see the validity of the boy's statement. He opened the door to the trophy room and entered.

"You can't continue to stay here, Kitten. Avery and the others are just upset because you left Slytherin. If you come back, they will leave you alone."

The girl shook her head. "I am a Gryffindor now."

The young man's shoulders drooped and he put his wand back into his pocket. "We will talk about it more later, but it's not safe here. For now let's move you back to Gryffindor Tower." He opened the jar of polish.

"I do not want to polish."

The young man placed a kiss on the girl's cheek before reaching for the nearest trophy. "And you'll never have to Kitten."

The young man made quick work of that trophy and several other silver pieces, railing against the auburn haired professor all the while. Resting her head on her folded hands, the girl just watched and listened.

"I can't believe Dumbledore would even ask you to polish silver. It is completely beneath you. And to force you to stay in the trophy room! What was he thinking? All Dumbledore cares about is his precious Hagrid. Hagrid brings you into the forest, but does he have to polish the trophies with you? No, of course not! Hagrid puts your very life in danger and all Dumbledore does is say 'don't do it again' and sends him on his way. Dumbledore didn't put any thought into your safety or welfare then and he doesn't now. The lock on that door can be disarmed by any first year. There is no portrait guarding it, anyone with half a mind to can just walk in to do all kinds of vile things to…" The young man stopped suddenly as he seemed to realize that the girl was listening. In ending, he tried to soften his words. "Anyone can come in and…bother you."

The young man went silent, seeming to focus on his own thoughts and the plaque in front of him.

The girl appeared confused, either by the young man's words or his sudden silence. Latching on to his last words, she tried to continue the conversation. "Professor Dumbledore bothered me."

The plaque was set aside and quickly forgotten. "What did you say?"

"Professor Dumbledore came in here and he bothered me."

The young man went ashen. "What do you mean?"

The girl looked impossibly more confused at the young man's reaction. Putting her head downward she shrugged.

"Kitten, what did Dumbledore do to you?"

Not getting a response, the young man tried again. "Kitten, this is very important. Tell me what he did to you."

Appearing to not quite know what to say, the girl fidgeted with the sleeve of her robes. "He bothered me, but Professor Kettleburn told him to stop."

"Kitten, how did he bother you?"

The girl looked up quickly to gauge the young man's reaction. "He just…bothered me. I want to talk about something else now."

Having been in the room with her since that first evening, _he_ had seen the auburn haired professor irritate and annoy the girl, but _he _would be willing to venture that the girl was not implying what the young man was inferring. Rather, _he_ believed her unease and desire to change the topic was caused by her unclearness about what it was they were talking about.

Misreading her reaction, the young man was unwilling to change the topic. "Was he…bothering you when he had you in Gryffindor Tower? Is that why you wanted to stay in the trophy room?"

The girl's confusion was making her very frustrated. "I do not want to polish things and I do not want to talk about it anymore!" She folded her arms across her chest and turned away.

"Kitten-" The young man stopped short as the auburn professor entered the room.

The auburn haired professor's glance quickly took in the sight of the two people already in the room, the open jar of polish, and the few polished silver pieces on the floor between them. That the girl had not been the one to do the polishing should be obvious to anyone who had entered the room and spoken to her in the past few days.

Yet oddly enough, the professor seemed willing to ignore this obvious fact. "Miss Grindelwald, you have completed your detention and may leave now."

The young girl responded solemnly to the auburn haired professor . "No, I did not. My Tom polished them. I am never, ever, ever going to polish anything. Not ever."

The auburn haired professor looked not at all surprised by the declaration. "I see." He looked somewhat awkward as he continued. "However, since you did the right thing by telling me the truth, I think we can compromise and consider the matter settled." The professor looked hopeful as he hesitantly made a suggestion. "Now let's move you back to Gryffindor Tower."

The girl guardedly questioned him. "Will I have to polish anything when we get there?"

The auburn haired professor quickly answered negatively.

The girl began to gather her belongings. She appeared eager to leave and avoid anymore of the young man's questions. The young man tried to get her to pause, but the professor used his wand to miniaturize all of her belongings and quickly gather them for traveling.

"Ready?"

The young man wore an expression of abject horror watching the girl leave with the auburn haired professor.

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#############################

_He_ watched the girl lying before the lit fireplace in the Gryffindor Common room. Regardless of the temperature in the room, she always seemed to have it lit.

It would seem that he was not the only one to notice. Upon entering the Common Room with her friends, the Meadowes girl headed straight for the fireplace. She doused the fire with water from her wand. "It's June. We don't have fires in June."

The girl stood and relit the fire with her wand. Not to be outdone, the older girl again tried to put it out. She became infuriated when the fire refused to again go out. With her wand still in her hand, she shoved the smaller girl. Neither of the other two girls attempted to intercede.

Stumbling, the young girl tried to grab hold of the Meadowes girl to keep from falling completely. Instead, she got a hold on the older girl's wand and took it with her as she fell.

"Give that back!" The Meadowes girl tore the wand from her hand and turned it against her. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Nothing happened.

The Meadowes girl tried to cast again with a similar lack of effect. One of the other girls began to shriek. "She squibified you!"

All shrieking, the older girls departed.

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#############################

Albus Dumbledore found it odd when Miss Meadowes decided to not participate during Transfiguration class. The girl looked sickly pale and her face was tear stained, but she refused to admit to there being anything wrong. Adolescent girls often had concerns that they would prefer not to share with their almost ninety year old professor, so he at first thought nothing of it.

But by lunch, several other students had decided to join in on Miss Meadowes work stoppage. Finally by the end of the day, he had had enough. When he began to insist that Alexia, a girl in his Seventh year N.E.W.T. level class participate, she dissolved into tears before running from the room.

"Would someone please tell me what is going on?"

No one would answer. No one was willing to even look at him. When he finally managed to catch Amelia Bones' gaze, reluctantly she spoke.

"Alexia can't do it."

Dumbledore frowned. "The spell is a bit complex, yes, but not impossible."

Amelia shook her head. "Alexia is a squib."

Dumbledore couldn't help but smile at that one. "A squib? Miss Bones, as easygoing as I am, I assure you, for N.E.W.T. level classes I do have to draw the line somewhere and it usually is a fair bit after squibs."

Amelia looked not at all amused. "It was that girl, sir. She cast a spell on Alexia."

Dumbledore didn't have to ask which girl. "Amelia, there is no spell to turn someone into a squib." Some very complicated potions to drain magic temporarily, perhaps, but no spells per se.

"She has been going around all day casting it, sir."

Dumbledore knew Amelia Bones was not the sort to make up wild allegations. "What is the incantation?"

Amelia was careful to take her hand off of her wand before whispering, "Squibify."

Hoping that this was merely a very well rehearsed senior prank, Dumbledore dismissed his class and went to investigate.

As he was arguing his way past Sir Cadogan, he could hear, but not see, Miss Grindelwald in the very act.

"Squibify!"

Entering the room, he found her scowling up at young Mr. Tillinghouse. Both had their wands out.

"What is going on in here?"

Again no one would answer him. Mr. Tillinghouse tried to leave, but Dumbledore stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Tillinghouse, as it is growing dark out and you have your wand out, would you be so kind as to light the sconces?"

"It isn't dark, sir."

No, it wasn't but Dumbledore insisted. "If you please, Mr. Tillinghouse."

The boy's hand began to tremble as he reluctantly held up his wand. "L-lumos."

Nothing happened.

The boy cleared his throat and tried again, slightly louder. "Lumos!"

As again nothing happened, Dumbledore turned to look at young Miss Grindelwald. She was wearing quite the pleased expression. "Serves you right!"

Dumbledore still did not understand how, but Miss Grindelwald's words suggested another question. "Why does it serve him right? What possible cause did he give for this?"

Miss Grindelwald didn't look so smug as she scratched her head and looked away, refusing to answer.

Dumbledore turned to Mr. Tillinghouse. "Did you do something to instigate this?"

Tillinghouse shook his head. "All I said was that she had chizpurfles in her hair."

Dumbledore sighed. Chizpurfles only dwelled in the feathers or fur of magical creatures, not in the hair of witches and wizards. In saying she had chizpurfles in her hair, Tillinghouse was calling her a beast. "Mr. Tillinghouse, she is only eight, but I would have expected better of you. Such childish insults are beneath my Gryffindors. Apologize."

Still, Mr. Tillinghouse continued to tease the girl. "Professor, I'm serious. My pet kneazle gets them sometimes. That girl has a whole nest of them living-"

Kitten frantically denied the claim. "I do not!"

"But sir, she really does have chizpurfles in her hair!"

"Mr. Tillinghouse! Twenty points from Gryffindor. Return to your dormitory and wait for me there."

Now alone with a still sullen looking Miss Grindelwald, Dumbledore wasn't quite sure what to say. Tillinghouse's remarks had no doubt been cruel and hurtful, but given her parentage, such behavior would likely always be a most unfortunate fact of life for Miss Grindelwald.

"Kitten, I know that the things he said upset you. You have every reason to be upset. However…" However what? He still wasn't sure what exactly it was that she had done. "…turning people into squibs because they say or do something that you don't like, well, it isn't an appropriate response."

Kitten did not appear to be being swayed by his words, but Dumbledore pressed on. "Mr. Tillinghouse will be coming back to apologize. Then I expect you to undo your spell."

Dumbledore waited a moment hoping for a response, but Kitten offered none. When he went to the boy's dormitory, he found Mr. Tillinghouse to be no more ready to reconcile the situation. It was only after being assigned two detentions a day for the rest of the term that the boy stopped insisting that the girl had chizpurfles in her hair.

Dumbledore led Mr. Tillinghouse back to the Common room. "Miss Grindelwald, I believe Mr. Tillinghouse has something to say to you."

The boy frowned and said nothing. Dumbledore nudged him and very grudgingly, the boy spoke. "I'm sorry I said you have chizpurfles in your hair."

"Now, Miss Grindelwald, kindly undo your spell."

"He did not sound like he really meant it."

No, Dumbledore had to admit, though only to himself, he didn't. "Miss Grindelwald, the point is that he did apologize. Now it is your turn to act."

Kitten shook her head. "He should at least _sound_ like he means it. Make him try again. He did not sound like he really meant it that time."

Mr. Tillinghouse had apparently had enough of holding his tongue. "I didn't _sound_ like I meant it, because I didn't mean it! You _do_ have chizpurfles living in your hair. _Professor, would you just look_!"

"Mr. Tillinghouse! Both of you, to the Headmaster's office now."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

###########################

Armando Dippet didn't understand the situation. Granted, he knew about the girl's foci ability so he was a bit better off than the others in his office, but he still didn't understand it at all.

A foci did take the powers, the magical energies of others to concentrate or amplify them, but the powers were supposed to be given back. The transfer, the magnification, the transfer back, it was all supposed to be instantaneous. But it appeared that the girl had found a way to retain all that power for herself. To in essence drain all the magic from the other children, leaving them nothing more than squibs.

Masters Shackleton and Tofty had examined all the students in the school. More than twenty of them had been found to be suffering from this strange affliction. None had been willing to come forward for fear of the stigma associated with being a squib. It was only by requiring all the students to attempt an elementary levitation charm that they had been picked out.

Though they knew nothing of the girl's unusual abilities, the others had some doubts that the newly invented spell was responsible. To begin with, Master Binns had repeatedly tried to replicate the girl's spell, much to Shackleton's irritation. To Shackleton's immense relief, Binns' attempts had all been unsuccessful.

Also, had the loss of magic been caused by an incantation, one of their multiple castings of 'Finite Incantatum' should have worked to restore the children's abilities. It however did not.

Turning to the girl, Dippet spoke firmly. "End this now."

As was usual, the girl ignored him.

Master Binns took out his wand with an idea. It was Binns, so it went without saying that it was not at all a worthwhile idea. "Starving her into submission didn't work, but perhaps tickle torture will? Rictusempra!"

The light from Binns' wand glanced off the girl and returned to strike Master Binns full force. It would seem that Hogwarts own historian had forgotten the protections that prevented harmful spells from landing upon underage Themises. 'Rictusempra' might not be considered by all to be a harmful spell, but certainly Binns' intent with the spell had been

"Robert, if you want to tickle her into submission, you're going to have to wait nine years or do it manually." Having said that, Master Kettleburn took out his own wand to end the History of Magic Master's suffering. "Finite Incantatum!"

Kettleburn's spell appeared to give Master Dumbledore an idea. They had of course already tried casting 'Finite Incantatum' on the girl's victims, but Dumbledore suggested casting it on the girl herself. The idea had no merit or logic to it, but as no harm could be foreseen, Master Dumbledore attempted it. Casting it on the girl only succeeded in turning her day robes into a rather tattered looking hospital wing nightdress.

With that failing some of the students began snickering, but Mr. Riddle soon silenced them. It wasn't as if there was really anything worse that Miss Grindelwald could do to them - compared to being a squib, for most, death would be preferable. Dippet still thought it best to temporarily dismiss the students back to their Common rooms. After all, what use could a group of squibs be in finding a solution?

Again Dippet attempted to reach out to the girl. "Unsquibify them all now!"

The girl seemed slightly confused as she repeated after him. "Unsquibify?"

Dippet made a horrified realization. "You don't know how to undo it, do you?"

The girl crossed her arms. "Of course I do!" Seeing his uncertainty, she lied some more. "I just am not going to do it!"

If she didn't know how to undo it, she was no more useful to him now than the squibs. "You may return to your rooms now."

She paused at the door to be sure he knew of her position. "I do know how!"

With the girl gone, Dippet began to formulate a plan. "There will be no owls in or out of Hogwarts until further notice. Inform the Ministry that our owls are being quarantined. We need to keep this matter private for as long as we can."

Kettleburn intruded on his thoughts. "That will buy you little more than a week. The Hogwarts express will be leaving the weekend after next."

Dippet considered the matter for a moment. "If we cannot find a resolution before then, we will deal with it in September. Students are not allowed to do magic during the summer."

"That's a good plan!"

When Binns complemented him on his plan, Dippet knew just how hopeless it was. He was almost certain he saw Master Dumbledore roll his eyes before speaking. "And what of those who are graduating?"

Dippet frowned. "If it comes to that, those affected will say nothing. None of them would willingly admit to being a squib. Meanwhile, as we quietly try to find a way to reverse this, classes shall continue as though nothing is wrong."

##########################

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Professor Tofty was delighted to see Miss Grindelwald's hand go up. She had never really taken an interest in his demonstrations before. Oh, she behaved well enough in his classes, unlike during some, well, all of the rest of her classes. It was just that usually she kept herself occupied drawing or painting. She didn't pay any mind to what the rest of the class was doing.

He knew she was already well versed in the 'Accio' spell he was currently demonstrating, but perhaps she had some insight to share with the rest of the class as they struggled to master the somewhat difficult incantation.

"Yes, Miss Grindelwald?"

"My marker stopped marking."

Tofty realized that that had perhaps been a lofty expectation to have for an eight year old.

He could have simply summoned another from his desk for her, but seeing that there was still a bit of ink left in the marker, Tofty had an idea. On a spare bit of parchment, he used the marker to draw a picture of a marker. He spoke the necessary incantation and the marker popped out of the picture.

By Miss Grindelwald's cry of delight, Tofty was certain that he had finally found a spell that her father had not thought to teach her. Handing the marker to her, he was quite pleased with himself. That was, until he saw the work of…art that had caused the first red marker to run dry.

Miss Grindelwald seemed to be harboring a great deal of resentment towards the young groundskeeper.

The picture showed the grass outside Hagrid's hut as mostly red instead of its customary green. A man with an axe was attacking a hippogriff while a sobbing Hagrid looked on but could do nothing. Apparently Miss Grindelwald didn't know that hippogriff blood wasn't red.

"Do you like my picture?"

Tofty smiled weakly in response. "It's…what…a lovely picture."

Miss Grindelwald didn't look all that convinced. She turned to the girl seated to her left and held up the parchment. "Do _you _like my picture?"

The older girl was so horrified, watching the man hack away at the creature's neck, that she dropped her wand. It rolled across the floor to Miss Grindelwald's feet.

"It's…" Miss Feldspar looked to him for help. "It's…lovely, it really is."

Miss Grindelwald didn't look convinced but she didn't say anything at first. She picked up the fallen wand and offered it back. A relieved Miss Feldspar accepted it.

Her relief was short lived. Miss Grindelwald picked up her own wand. "Squibify!"

Tofty didn't understand. "But, she said she liked it?"

Kitten shrugged. "She did not sound like she really meant it."

"Go sit in the corner!" Miss Grindelwald started to protest, but Tofty would hear none of it. "Go sit in the corner until you are ready to apologize and unsquibify her!"

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

########################

Rubeus Hagrid was busy tending his garden when he first saw Kitten making her way over to him. Hagrid put his head down and made as if to look real busy.

It wasn't that he wasn't glad to see her, but he just didn't want to get into anymore trouble. After the day in the forest, Headmaster Dippet and Professor Kettleburn had stopped by to see him. They said he didn't have to take Kitten to classes anymore and not only that, but he wasn't to be round her anymore. Hagrid missed going to classes again, but Headmaster Dippet hadn't thought to take his wand pieces back. So it wasn't that he didn't miss Kitten's company, it was just that he didn't want to do anything to get into trouble again. And lately, Kitten had been causing all kinds of trouble.

Hagrid didn't say anything to her as she got closer. Once she got real close, she just kind of watched him for a few minutes before finally talking.

"You do not come to see me anymore."

Hagrid gave a shrug. "I've been busy that's all." He kept pulling at the weeds in his garden.

Kitten didn't seem to be believing him. "Are you mad at me?"

"Na, I'm na mad really, I'm just- you shouldna have told meh there were dragons in teh forest. Yeh shouldna have lied, that's all."

Kitten's lips thinned. "_I did not lie_! There _are_ dragons in the forest!"

Hagrid looked up at her with a frown. "Naw, there yeh go again, tellin' more lies. It's nah a very nice thing tah be doin'."

Kitten got real upset like. "There are dragons in the forest! There really are! Three, maybe even four of them! And they all have egg babies!"

Her voice got really loud. So loud that it got Tom Riddle to come over from wherever he was before.

"What have you done now, Hagrid? I told you before; leave her alone!"

"I dinna do nothin', Tom. I'm na botherin' nobody!"

Tom might have been a lot smaller to look at, but he sure didn't seem it right then. Hagrid kind of wished that Professor Kettleburn would show up again.

"I warned you before, Hagrid, but you just don't listen. This time, I'll have to make the lesson a little more memorable!"

Kitten spoke up to interrupt Tom. "You leave my Hagrid alone!"

But that just seemed to make Tom even more mad. "You will pay for that, Hagrid!"

When Tom took out his wand, Hagrid _really_ wished that Professor Kettleburn would show up again. Tom might have been thinking something of the same thing cause he looked back towards the castle to make sure no professors were watching before starting to cast a spell. Hagrid squeezed his eyes shut, wondering what the spell would be.

"Cru-"

Hagrid opened just one eye, to peak, as Kitten started talking over Tom.

"-Squibilicious!"

Kitten hadn't taken out her own wand. She just snatched Tom's and turned it against him. Tom didn't look like he had been expecting that to happen. His mouth was hanging wide open.

Kitten handed back the wand and tried to start back at their old conversation, but now Tom started talking over her. Well, more shouting really loud over her.

"One dragon is silvery-blue, and another is green-"

**"You can't do that! Not to me! I'm your Tom! I'm the one that takes care of you!"**

"And the other is red, but sometimes there is another one…."

Eventually Tom's shouting made Professor Kettleburn, his whole class, and some other people come over. Kitten was made to go back to the castle. Everyone was real upset. Well, except for Professor Binns, he was sort of all smiley. But everyone else was upset, especially Headmaster Dippet. He was the most upset of all. Maybe even as upset as Tom. He kept talking, but not to anyone in particular. Just the same few words over and over again until he started to walk back to the castle.

"No, not Mr. Riddle! Not Mr. Riddle! If he isn't there to stop her, who will?"

A little bit after, Professor Binns headed back to the castle too.

#########################################

This could not be happening. It simply could not be happening.

After using the walk back to the castle to regroup his thoughts, Armando Dippet stormed into the Gryffindor Head Girl's room. Using his wand, he banished all the art supplies that Master Tofty had used to placate the girl these past few months. The paint sets, the markers, the crayons, even the finished parchments. He banished them all.

He briefly considered banishing the far too numerous candy boxes as well, but his concern for Mr. Key's safety held him back.

The girl started to object, but he cut her off. "Those are mine!"

"You will return Mr. Riddle's powers to him post haste! I don't care that you don't know how, you will find a way!"

Quite cross with him, the girl merely folded her arms and tried to ignore him.

Dippet refused to let her get away with it any longer. "You will do it. If you don't you will never see another paint set or marker or piece of chalk again!"

As he was turning to leave, Dippet noticed that a subject that should not be there was in the frame on the wall. With his wand still out, he banished that as well. "You! I command you to return to your proper painting at once! And do not leave it again!"

#########################################

Robert Binns never thought to find himself in Gryffindor Tower, and certainly not ever in the girl's dormitory, but here he was. Tentatively, he knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Carrying a list of names and a box of sugar quills, he made his way into the Head Girl's room. Miss Grindelwald was sitting at her desk looking exceedingly curious as to who her visitor was. Her curiosity tuned to exceeding unhappiness seeing who it was.

"What do _you_ want?"

It was dangerous, his being here. He had done little of late to endear himself to Miss McGrindagall and there was a chance that she would turn against him the very power that he sought.

Binns bowed deeply as a sign of respect. "I have come seeking your aid."

Miss McGrindagall wordlessly stared at him, so he bowed again. "What you have been doing, I think it's a great thing! I've tried to do it myself, but I can't get the spell to work. I was hoping, that is, I wanted to ask…there are some people, I have a list with their names, not all mind you but twenty or so to start. I wondered if you might…take care of them for me?"

She scratched her head, but still said nothing. Bowing with each step, Binns moved forward to present the box of sugar quills. As he tried to maneuver his way to the desk, the stacks of candy boxes already in place in the room were so numerous that they made it difficult to advance.

Setting his box down before the girl, Binns realized just how underwhelming his offering was; he didn't need to see the girl's raised eyebrow, nor did he need to follow her gaze to the already existing tower of sugar quills that dwarfed her in size.

Growing desperate, Binns called out. "Well, what _do_ you want?"

The girl thought about it for a minute before listing off her demands.

"I need paints. I need red and black and silvery-blue and green. And paint brushes and more parchments."

Binns nodded eagerly. "I can get all of those. I'll have them by the end of the day. Now you understand what you must do in exchange?"

Miss McGrindel nodded, but Binns had to be sure. "I will go now and get those things for you, but I'm sure you'll understand, before I turn them over to you, I will need a show of good faith on your part. The first name on the list would be sufficient."

The girl perused the list. "Professor Shackleton?"

Binns frowned, displeased at the uncertainty in her voice. "Well do you want the paints or not?"

The girl looked to be having a crisis of conscience so Binns did what he could to help. "You know he called you a liar, but that isn't even the half of it. The things he has said about you, well I can't even bring myself to repeat them!"

"I want markers too."

Binns brightened considerably at her response. Picking up the box of quills, he turned to leave.

"Wait!"

Binns sighed. Damned consciences.

"Leave the sugar quills."

Binns did as he was told. He couldn't help but smile as he left the room.

#############################################

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Albus Dumbledore made his way to Gryffindor Tower to have a little chat with Miss Grindelwald. He found her easily, she was sitting in the Common room watching the door almost expectantly. The Common room, usually a hub of activity, was otherwise deserted. Occasionally someone would enter the room, only to quickly dart to the dormitories or out through the portal.

Dumbledore had heard about the latest way in which Dippet had decided to punish Kitten. Without her usual art supplies to occupy her, Kitten looked rather bored.

"Miss Grindelwald, I think it is time for you and I to have a little chat." Sitting, Dumbledore gestured to the chair next to him. "You cannot turn people into squibs."

Kitten looked at him earnestly. "Sure, I can."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, you can't."

Kitten frowned. "Maybe _you _cannot, but _I _can."

Both turned to look as the portal opened.

"Watch."

Taking out her wand, Kitten rose and intercepted young Miss Weasley as the red haired girl tried to make it to the girl's dormitory. A trembling Miss Weasley held out her wand in an attempt to defend herself. Kitten's fingers brushed against the slightly older girl's wand as she reached for her hand to hold her still. Dumbledore watched aghast as Miss Grindelwald cast her spell.

"Squibify!"

Crying, Miss Weasley ran back out the portal. Kitten returned to her previous seat. "See? I told you I could. It is really easy to do."

"I meant, you _shouldn't _do it!"

"Oh." Kitten frowned and looked at the fire. "That is _not_ what you said!"

Dumbledore sighed, more at himself than her. After his experience as a beetle, he really should have learned to phrase things more carefully with her.

He was still trying to formulate a new approach when the door again opened. Professor Shackleton walked in. "What happened to Miss Weasley? Don't tell me _she_ did it again?"

As Shackleton spoke, Kitten moved to do it once more. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor saw her approaching with her wand out. He attempted to cast a protective barrier around himself to hold back her spell, but Kitten was too quick for him. Pushing his wand to face away from her with one hand, she used her other hand to jab him with her own wand.

"Squibilicious!"

Dumbledore found it odd that both times Miss Grindelwald chose to get up close to the subject of her spell. Or actually, spells. She said a different word this time. He was starting to ponder not only that inconsistency, but the fact that no light came from her wand either time she cast. However, before he could comment on it, Shackleton sprang into action.

At first the older professor had been too shocked to do anything, but he quickly regained himself enough to try a few small spells. When they failed, Shackleton lunged at Kitten. "I'm going to wring your neck!"

Very disappointed at his colleague's reaction, Dumbledore moved into his path to block him. "Calm yourself, Shackleton!"

Once Shackleton had calmed enough to be somewhat reasonable, Dumbledore made a request of him. "Let me see your wand."

"Why?"

"I want to try something."

Reluctantly, Shackleton turned his wand over. Dumbledore used it to try to cast a spell. When it failed to work, he turned to regard Miss Grindelwald over the top of his half-moon glasses.

"Miss Grindelwald, is there anything you would like to tell me?"

When she frowned and folded her arms without giving a response, Dumbledore held out his own wand to Shackleton. "Try mine."

Miss Grindelwald tried snatching it. Dumbledore had to hold it over her head to keep her from making contact with it. Her actions confirmed his suspicions even before Shackleton successfully cast a spell.

"Does this mean I will not get the paints?"

At first Dumbledore thought she was referring to the supplies Dippet had taken away from her as an incentive for her to unsquibify all those that she had squibified. However, when Binns entered laid down with several shopping bags, both he and Shackleton came to a different conclusion.

Shackleton was absolutely furious. "You put her up to this, didn't you?"

"What? No! She-she made me do it! She threatened me!"

"I don't believe you!"

"I-I-I…" Binns pointed past them. "Look! Over there!"

Dumbledore knew better, but Shackleton was actually foolish enough to turn in the direction that Binns was pointing. Robert dropped his parcels and ran back out the door. Miss Grindelwald happily retrieved them.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Albus Dumbledore watched the wand shop proprietor polish a wand before handing it to Miss Meadowes. For fear that taking some thirty odd students to Ollivander's shop in Diagon Alley would attract unwanted attention, Ollivander had been invited to the castle. The wand he just offered Miss Meadowes proved not to be the _one _for her. After scanning the dozens of already opened wand boxes that were scattered about the room, Ollivander slapped Binns' hand away from his carpet bag and again reached in himself.

The bag was charmed to enable Ollivander, and Ollivander alone, to access the entire inventory of his shop. Of course, they had been at this all day and Dumbledore found it unlikely that there was much inventory left in the actual stop.

Ollivander gave a weary sigh. "Just one more after Miss Meadowes?"

With a nod, Dumbledore indicated the still waiting Tom Riddle. "Mr. Riddle is the last one - actually," Dumbledore interrupted himself, "there is one other. If you will excuse me one moment."

Leaving Ollivander to continue trying to find the wand that would choose Dorcas Meadowes, Dumbledore made his way to Gryffindor Tower. Despite having been the cause of all the recent trouble, Dumbledore still thought it time Miss Grindelwald received a wand that was not a hand me down.

"Miss Grindelwald, I should like you to come with me. I think it is time you had a wand of your own."

Returning to the other room with Miss Grindelwald in tow, Dumbledore discovered that Miss Meadowes had since departed. The wand shop proprietor had begun to work on finding a suitable wand for Tom Riddle. However upon taking note of the arrival of the young girl, Ollivander seemed to forget all about Tom. He stared at the girl with an odd expression for what Dumbledore found to be an exceptionally long time.

Looking at Miss Grindelwald, Dumbledore tried to be objective and see her as Ollivander would. Seeing a person everyday, it was hard to notice the gradual day to day changes even as they added up to more pronounced changes. When she had first appeared in the Potions classroom, clawing and biting him, he remembered seeing her hair and thinking it needed a trim. Somehow with all that had happened since, no one had ever gotten around to giving her that trim. She didn't seem to have grown much in height, or put on weight, but again it was hard to judge such things just by looking. She still had very little in the way of coloring. Not that after the business with the centaurs, that was something he was eager to work on. As it was, Miss Grindelwald was under orders not to go outdoors unaccompanied, though like most other rules set for her, she disregarded it when it suited her to do so. She had shoes on now, which was something she had been lacking that first day. He had first seen her in a tattered looking nightdress and while that particular nightdress had long since been discarded, the sometimes robes sometimes nightdress she had now was beginning to show its wear.

All in all, Dumbledore had to admit she could have been made up to produce a better first impression, but he still found Ollivander's staring to be a bit excessive.

Approaching her, Ollivander finally spoke. "Curious. I take it this is the…one responsible for the wand malfunctions? A Themis, you claim?" He reached out to touch her hair, but Kitten wouldn't have it.

A bit too late, Dumbledore awkwardly warned him. "She bites."

"I see." Still with that odd expression, Ollivander picked up the nearest wand box. "Try this one. Elm and unicorn hair. Eleven inches."

The wand lit up spectacularly as soon as the girl flicked it. Dumbledore was surprised to see that the first wand that the girl tried worked, but considering the reason why Mr. Ollivander was here, he realized he really shouldn't be all that surprised. He would have thought that Ollivander would be pleased but frowning, the man took the wand back and handed the girl another.

"Maple and unicorn hair. Seven inches."

Though that one too took an instant liking to her, the wand shop proprietor was not content.

"Oak and phoenix feather. Eleven inches."

"Mahogany and dragon heartstring. Nine and a half inches."

"Elm and unicorn hair. Twelve and three quarters."

The pile of discarded wands around Miss Grindelwald grew. On and on Ollivander listed wand characteristics as he handed each one to the girl. Each one worked as well as the last.

"Curiouser and curiouser."

Once he had had Miss Grindelwald test all the wands already in the room, Ollivander began reaching into his bag to get more. Box after box came out of the bag until the room looked like a wand shop. Each wand worked, yet still Ollivander kept giving the girl more to try.

"My arm is starting to hurt."

Ollivander still pierced her with that odd look. "Just a few more."

He groped around inside the bag again, but his hand came out empty. He frowned. "That was the last one."

"The last one? What about me?"

Ollivander seemed to have forgotten entirely about Tom Riddle. He perused the many boxes scattered about the room, but Miss Grindelwald had handled each and every one of them. His gaze finally settled on the girl herself. "I wonder…"

Dumbledore began to wonder as well. He began to wonder what exactly it was that Ollivander had in mind as he approached the girl. From his agitation, it appeared Tom too was wondering. Despite having been squibified by her, Tom still seemed to be trying to look out for Kitten.

"What are you doing? Get away from her!"

Ollivander's focus remained on the girl even as he accioed a brush from his bag, or the shop beyond it, and responded to Tom. "Well you want a new wand, don't you?"

Though Kitten enjoyed having her hair brushed enough to not try biting Ollivander again, she did seem nervous. Not for the first time since arriving in the room, she began her habit of vigorously scratching her head.

Watching Ollivander brush out the girl's long locks, Dumbledore didn't like where this was going. "You are going to try to make Tom a wand from Miss Grindelwald's hair? I was not aware that Themis hair could be used in wands."

Ollivander wore an odd little smile. "Themis hair is no different than yours or mine. But then, this is not Themis hair."

Dumbledore had always thought the wand shop owner a little odd, but watching him lean in close and begin to sniff the little girl's hair, he found him just as disturbing as Malfoy had been.

"This is most definitely wand quality hair. Do you know how I can tell?"

Dumbledore wasn't really interested in knowing. He beckoned for Kitten to move away from Ollivander, but while simultaneously summoning a pair of tweezers from his bag, the older man put a hand on the girl's shoulder to prevent her from leaving. Ollivander used the tweezers to pluck something from the girl's hair and held it out almost triumphantly.

Dumbledore was deeply chagrined to discover Mr. Tillinghouse had been correct. Dumbledore also realized that Dippet's decision to allow Robert Binns to remain in charge of the girl's baths and feeding had undoubtedly been a misjudgment. "Robert, when was the last time Miss Grindelwald had a bath?"

"Just last night!" Binns insisted.

"Robert!" Dumbledore warned.

Bins sighed. "Well…if you mean an actual bath with water…Cleansing charms are just as good. Watch - Scourgify!"

Seeing Binns' weak casting was insufficient to remove any of the paint stains from Miss Grindelwald's hands, Dumbledore sighed.

Ignoring them, Ollivander spoke. "Chizpurfles feed off of magic. You will only find concentrations this high in wand quality hair or feathers. They are particularly fond of unico-"

Kitten hissed at him. "I do _not _have chizpurfles!"

Ollivander pulled more of the small magical fleas out of her hair in order to show them to her, but Kitten still pointedly refused to accept them as her own. "They are _not _mine! I do _not_ have fleas!"

To prove her wrong, Ollivander brought a few of the chizpurfles over to Dumbledore, the only other long haired person in the room. As soon as they were set free in his hair, they could be seen to jump off and make the return journey to Miss Grindelwald. Dumbledore tried to look apologetic, but with an angry huff, Kitten flopped face down onto the nearby sofa. To add injury to insult, Ollivander took advantage of her position to extract a few hairs from her head.

Ollivander rummaged in his bag until he found a coreless wand from the workshop behind his wand shop. It took him only a minute to have a finished wand to offer Tom Riddle. Dumbledore had a horrible feeling watching Tom wave the wand. More than mere sparks came out; a torrent of flames emerged. With his blue eyes twinkling nearly as bright, Tom directed the flames to the fireplace where they took hold.

Binns stood excitedly. "Make me one too! Make me one too!"

At the time, Dumbledore couldn't say what exactly made him do it, but he _knew_ it had to be done. "Expelliarmus!" Before Tom or anyone else had time to react, Dumbledore threw the wand into the fire Mr. Riddle had so conveniently provided.

"That was my wand! You had no right to do that!"

Though he didn't seem at all happy to see his craftsmanship destroyed, Ollivander seemed to understand Dumbledore's motivation. "Yes, perhaps that wand was a bit too powerful…but I have no other to offer."

Dumbledore thought for a moment before holding out his arm to summon his phoenix companion. In a burst of flames, Fawkes apparated to him, expending a single feather in the process.

The wand shop proprietor raised an eyebrow. "Fawkes? Fawkes deems it beneath himself to be a wand ingredient."

Indeed Dumbledore had to admit, Fawkes did not appear to be at all pleased at having been summoned. He was singing a very sorrowful, Dumbledore would almost call it a mourning song. Dumbledore stroked his feathers. "Old friend, I need to ask a favor of you."

Fawkes tilted his head in refusal. Dumbledore could tell he wanted no part of this. To be used in a wand, phoenix feathers had to be plucked from the phoenix with the magic still in them. Feathers cast off in molting or fallen after the magic had already been expended were unsuitable. Phoenixes were a rarity, but so many wands were made with phoenix feathers because phoenixes wanted to have their feathers placed into wands, to have their powers used by others. Fawkes was something of a rarity amongst rarities in that he had never allowed such a thing. He was more than happy to have his fallen and molted feathers turned into quills for use by Dumbledore, or even others, but never wands.

It wasn't vanity, as Ollivander had supposed, that always made Fawkes refuse to give his feathers to be used. What it was, well that Dumbledore did not know, but it wasn't vanity.

"You know I would not ask this of you if it were not so important." And indeed it was. Dumbledore couldn't say how and he didn't know why, but he _knew_ it was.

Fawkes' unease showed in his eyes and his impossibly more sorrowful song as he finally consented. Seeing Ollivander approach and sniff the phoenix's feathers with the same odd happy look that he had worn while sniffing Miss Grindelwald's hair, Dumbledore wasn't sure if that rated him higher or lower than Malfoy.

Once Ollivander had a feather in his possession, it was not long before Tom was again trying a wand. This one merely sparkled.

Seeing Tom with the wand made of his feather, Fawkes ended his song and made to leave. He left in the way that he had come; in a burst of flames. As he was going, he did the oddest thing. The phoenix spread his wings to their full, very intimidating width and with a horrid screeching noise he dove at the girl on the sofa, as if trying to frighten her.

Dumbledore and the others were extremely startled, but not so the girl; she just kept up her little chanting. She had been fairly well behaved during the whole ordeal over getting Tom a wand. It was only in the last few minutes that her boredom and it would seem hunger had begun to get the best of her. She had taken to quietly chanting what it was she apparently wanted to have for dinner. "Turkey, turkey, turkey…"

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"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Albus Dumbledore waited a moment after knocking before poking his head in the door.

"Miss Grindelwald, would you care to accompany me to the Great Hall for dinner?"

Sitting at her desk absorbed in the art set from Binns, Miss Grindelwald only shook her head.

Dumbledore wore a wry smile. Naturally getting her out of the room couldn't be as easy as that.

"Dinner will be over soon. Are you sure you won't come?"

She again shook her head. Now that she no longer had the threat of 'squibifying' to lord over the other students' heads, Kitten had reverted back to spending most of her time alone in her rooms. She even avoided the Common room. Dumbledore would have liked to do something to get her more involved with the other students, but the situation was looking fairly hopeless. At this point he could only hope that the new first years in September would arrive knowing a little less about Miss Grindelwald than the current students did.

It was an unkind thought perhaps, but Dumbledore was almost glad that Tom Riddle would be gone in little more than a week. Dumbledore had a feeling, well a hope at any rate, that things would start to improve once Tom Riddle was out of the picture.

He was just about to reclose the door when Kitten finally decided to actually speak. "My Hagrid does not come to see me anymore."

Hagrid had been asked to keep his distance from Kitten. It had been suggested that having the two of them together might not be the best of ideas. It wasn't Dumbledore's idea, but after their forest adventures, he really hadn't been able to argue against it.

"He likes dragons. I made a picture of a dragon for him. Will you give it to him?"

"Certainly." Dumbledore moved into the room to take the picture. "May I look at it?"

Kitten nodded.

Looking at the picture, Dumbledore was a little disconcerted. "I take it you are angry at Hagrid?"

After Kitten shook her head, he looked at the picture again. "Well, you drew a dragon eating Hagrid." With its very clearly depicted lizard-like look, its yellow eyes, black scales, bronze horns and the bronze spikes on its tail, it was unmistakably a Hungarian Horntail, the most voracious of man eating dragons. "By the looks of it, a Hungarian Horntail. Would you like to talk about that?"

Kitten looked a bit annoyed as she pointed at the dark haired boy being eaten. "Hagrid does not wear glasses."

Dumbledore was a bit lost. "This boy doesn't have glasses either."

Kitten poked the dragon with her wand. As it opened its mouth wide in an angry roar, Dumbledore could see that a pair of glasses, along with several of the boy's limbs, had already been mostly devoured.

Kitten pointed to the side of the picture. "My Hagrid is over here."

Sure enough there was Hagrid seated with a large crowd of people on what looked to be stadium seats like at a Quidditch game. Dumbledore took another look at what was left of the dark haired boy, but he couldn't figure out who it was supposed to be. Perhaps the boy wasn't actually someone she knew, but a representation of something?

Dumbledore waited for the dragon to finish eating the boy so that he could see the picture reenact from the beginning. The dark haired boy walked out of a tent, caught sight of the dragon, sighed, tousled his hair, and then, head down, walked right up to it to get devoured. A large crowd of people were there watching, but they did nothing to stop it. He knew children often tried to tell adults things with their artwork, but if there was a hidden meaning to this, he wasn't understanding it.

Even after watching it a second time, he still didn't understand what the drawing was supposed to mean. "Did the boy do something wrong? Is he being punished?"

Kitten's only response was a half shrug, so Dumbledore tried again. "Why are all of these people watching him be fed to a dragon?"

"He is not being fed to a dragon, he is being eaten by a dragon."

While there was a difference between the two, that wasn't really what he had been looking for. "Okay, why does the dragon eat him?"

Kitten's voice was laced with disapproval. "He was going to try to take one of her egg babies away."

"Ah." Suddenly things were becoming a bit more clear. "I see, he tried to take her child away from her." This drawing wasn't a threat against Hagrid. "And is that what you think should happen to people who try to take a child away from her mother?" It was a threat, consciously or subconsciously, directed towards him. "Or father?"

Kitten shrugged again. Since Ollivander's discovery of the chizpurfle infestation living in her hair and their subsequent removal by Kettleburn, she didn't scratch anymore. "I just wanted to show Hagrid what the dragons in the forest look like."

There of course were no dragons in the forest. Dumbledore gazed at her over the top of his half-moon glasses for a few minutes before responding. "Well, I think you should come with me to the Great Hall and give the picture to Hagrid yourself."

################################################

Rubeus Hagrid looked up in surprise to see Professor Dumbledore bringing Kitten over to where he was sitting at the Head Table. Kitten looked to him to be a wee bit shy as she held out a parchment. Hagrid wiped his hand on his napkin before taking the parchment with a smile.

"Oh, Kitten! She…she's beautiful!"

The parchment was a painting of a large black dragon. Her wings were spread real wide and her head was held high. Kitten had really taken her time and put a lot of detail into her work. Hagrid could make out each and every one of the dragon's teeth as it gnawed on the bones of something or other. She had to be the most beautiful creature Hagrid had ever seen.

"Did yeh make this fer meh?"

Kitten nodded. "Would you like to come have dinner with me?"

Hagrid looked at Professor Dumbledore to see what he had to say about the idea. Professor Dumbledore gave a nod to say it was alright. Together with Kitten, Hagrid headed off to the Slytherin table where Professor Binns was already waiting.

Professor Binns had already started into and finished off most of the dishes on the table, but Hagrid wasn't too interested in them. He couldn't take his eyes off of the picture.

"Kitten, I dinna know what teh say. That there is a mighty fine dragon. This has got tah be teh most wonderful present that anyone has ever given tah meh."

Kitten beamed. She looked very pleased that he liked her picture.

"Why the only thing that I could even think o' that could ever be better, would be a real live dragon!"

Fingering her wand, Kitten thought about that for a moment. "Is there really nothing that you would like more? Is that your heart's desire?"

Hagrid had a dreamy sort of look as he thought about it for a moment. "Aye. Crickey, I'd like a dragon."

######################################

Robert Binns had to stop himself from snorting as he added more butter to his mashed potatoes. Hagrid and his fascination with dragons! Really! Of all the absolutely, positively foolish things!

And that girl with her, 'Is that your heart's desire?' What was she going to do, start passing out wishes? Marvelous! First she thought she was a cat, now she thinks she is a genie.

That might be interesting - to be a genie. To live in a bottle and grant other people's wishes. Hmm, no that really wouldn't do at all. Better to be the one doing the wishing.

But what would he request? In case he ever he were to find a genie and be asked, he ought to have an answer ready. What exactly was his heart's desire?

Without doubt, he would like to be rid of Deputy Headmaster Shackleton, but he wouldn't waste one of his wishes on that man. And unquestionably it would be exciting to be Elfric the Eager for a while, but he already knew how Elfric ended and that was most definitely not an end he wanted.

Really, what was his heart's desire? The answer was harder to decide than you might think.

Binns sighed as something flew by his head. Looking up, he wondered, would these children never stop with the food throwing?

_tbc_


	50. Chapter 50

_Chapter 50_

A/N Thank you Maria not only for taking the time to beta check, but for all your support and encouragement.

Granted, I do realize it is summer and the two wonderful people who review my every chapter are off line. However, when I leave a cliffhanger of Kitten setting a dragon loose in the Great Hall and it only garners three comments, its pretty clear this story has lost its luster. I am discontinuing this story.

That said, I will not be leaving this particular storyline unfinished. The next chapter, which will be the last, has been written for several months. It needs typing, a bit of tweaking, and to be beta checked, after which I will post it. The chapter doesn't have the same feel to its ending that I had in mind for the over all story, but it is the way I intended all along to end this era of the storyline and it does have a certain air of finality to it.

Once that chapter is in place, I will be making a few minor edits to the earlier chapters in order to comfortably put a 'Finis' on this saga. Personally, I hate a mystery story where only the detective is given the information to solve the case and the reader is given no opportunity to participate. Believe it or not, the answers to most, if not all, of the questions raised in this story have already been presented. The purpose of many of the long, seemingly random segments in chapters was to present all the necessary information to the reader in such a way as to not too obviously raise suspicions. The later parts of the story were simply meant to disclose in a more direct manner that which had already been revealed.

Those of you who have read and reviewed in the past, I thank you.

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Rubeus Hagrid saw he had been right; she was even more wonderful in person. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Her large black wings spread out, casting a shadow over a goodly portion of the Hall. She sent a gentle breeze toward them each time she beat her wings to stay in the air. Her head tilted up and she let out a sigh. A glorious stream of fire poured out with the breath of air.

There were House banners hanging over the tables. At first the flames seemed to be reaching out to kiss them, but soon it started to look more like dancing. All around him, people were standing, trying to get a better look. Hagrid could tell he wasn't the only one excited. Loads of different colors of light were pinging about. It was almost like one of those firework shows. Bathed in their glow, she looked so lovely, it took his breath away.

She began to swoop and glide about the room. She was a glorious sight. This was the bestest present anyone had ever given him.

############################################################

Albus Dumbledore had just finished filling his plate with an assortment of salad greens when he heard the first scream. Instinct, or perhaps experience, led him to look over at the Slytherin Table. The sumptuous greens he had been looking forward to all day forgotten, he allowed his fork to fall to the floor. No doubt it landed with a clatter, but it couldn't be heard over the room's din.

"Bad idea! Shouldn't have done that!"

Dumbledore didn't think that Professor Tofty's exclamations could even begin to cover it. Someone had conjured a Hungarian Horntail into the Great Hall. Dumbledore didn't wish to be one to jump to conclusions, but given that it appeared to be the dragon from Miss Grindelwald's painting and the girl still had her wand out, he had little to no room to doubt who was responsible.

The dragon emitted a jet of flame which set fire to some of the House banners hanging from the ceiling. Burning bits of cloth began to rain down on those below.

Most of the students were shouting and trying to make their way out of the Great Hall, but a fair number seemed too frightened to react. They just stared up at it. In the pandemonium, some that were closest to the door looked to be in danger of being trampled.

"Finite Incantatum!"

He knew even before trying that the spell would not work. Miss Grindelwald, he was sure, was more powerful than he. Far too powerful for him to be able to reverse her spell without her wanting him to. Besides, dragons were very powerful creatures in their own right. Their hides made excellent protective garments and shields for a reason; they could easily deflect or absorb magic as needed. It would take more than all his power to subdue a dragon. Perhaps a half dozen men casting in precise unison could do it, but not one man acting alone. He tried to get the other professors to work with him.

"If we all cast together on the count of three. One! Two! Three!"

Most were unable to hear him in all the excitement. Pomfrey had been seated right next to him. He heard Dumbledore's suggestion and cast with him on the count of three. However, proving useless as always, rather than cast the same spell as him, Pomfrey cast a cheering charm. When that failed to have any effect, Pomfrey joined the throng of people running toward the door.

On Dumbledore's other side, Shackleton hadn't heard him or was just too involved in his own idea to give Dumbledore's a try. He kept trying to get a Conjunctivitus spell to stick. Dumbledore thought it was just as well that that failed; a blinded Hungarian Horntail wildly thrashing about could be equally as dangerous. Across the table, Kettleburn appeared to be trying a canary transfiguration hex. The idea had merit; not much, but more than Dippet's tactic of remaining seated and holding his head in his hands.

Hungarian Horntails were notoriously well known as man eaters. Seeing this one begin circling the room, Dumbledore knew it would not be long before it began feasting on the children below.

No, it was becoming abundantly clear, the only way to get rid of the dragon was the way it had come; Miss Grindelwald. Dumbledore glanced over toward her spot at the Slytherin table. She was standing next to Hagrid, smiling up at him. Hagrid himself was wearing a most radiant smile. Naturally, Robert Binns was nowhere to be seen. No doubt, he was cowering under the table, assuming he hadn't succeeded in being first out the door.

Dumbledore couldn't see another way. Even if he tried to make his way over to her, he doubted he would be able to get there in time. Even if he did, what then? How long would it take to convince her to do away with the thing that seemed to please Hagrid so? He was absolute in his confidence that she had not done this to deliberately harm anyone. She could _eventually_ be made to understand the dangers involved in having a dragon here, to agree to remove it, but he simply did not have the luxury of time in which to do it.

He really couldn't see another way.

Lifting his wand, even just preparing the word in his mind, Dumbledore was sickened with himself. But he could not see another way.

"Imperio!"

He held the spell for only the briefest moment. As soon as Miss Grindelwald had raised her own wand, as soon as she had spoken those same two words that had failed him several times, as soon as the light from her wand made the dragon disappear with an audible pop, he released her from the spell.

A startled look came across her face. The lower portion of her robes began to darken in a streak. He could see a small puddle forming at her feet. Her expression crumbled when she lowered her head and saw the damp spots.

Dippet was shaking his head. "Why couldn't you leave it alone? Why did you find it necessary to interfere?"

Dumbledore was certain the still seated Headmaster's comments could not possibly be directed at him, but his face flushed regardless. Dumbledore began to make his way to the spot where Kitten was standing, but Shackleton moved into his path.

The Deputy Headmaster clapped him on the back. "Good thinking, Dumbledore!"

Tofty's assessment summed up Dumbledore's feelings aptly. "Shackleton, you're an arse!"

Dippet had at last risen. Dumbledore thought he too was trying to make his way to Miss Grindelwald, but now that the room was cleared, Dumbledore could see it was Robert Binns who held the Headmaster's attention. Contrary to his earlier belief, the History of Magic professor had not fled at the first sign of trouble. He appeared to have instead collapsed.

"Master Binns, are you all right?"

To Dumbledore's mind, Binns certainly didn't look it. He was extremely pale, sweating profusely and had one hand clutched to his chest. "A dragon! Did you see it! A dragon! Here in the Great Hall!"

"Mr. Hagrid, collect Madame Griselda. Bring her here at once!"

"Aye, sir."

After Hagrid's departure, Dumbledore turned around to look for Kitten. He couldn't see her anywhere.

"Master Dumbledore, your assistance."

Dumbledore ignored Dippet's voice. He needed to find her. No doubt she was frightened and confused.

"Master Dumbledore, your assistance!"

Binns looked to be frightened and confused as well, not to mention in a great deal of pain. But for the moment, that couldn't be his concern. "I'll get Kettleburn to help you." Dumbledore turned to look for him, but he could see that wouldn't work; Kettleburn was occupied with one of the students who had been burned by the falling banners. "Or Tofty." Tofty was busy too. He was attempting to levitate to the Hospital wing two first years who had been injured in the crush to get to the door. Still Dumbledore had other concerns. "Did you see where Miss Grindelwald went?"

"Mr. Riddle took her, now your assistance please!"

"I need to find her!"

"What you need to do is help me to look after Master Binns. You, of course, realize what will become of the girl should he die."

"I need to-"

"Leave her alone, Albus. I dare say you have done more than enough already. Mr. Riddle will look after her."

He was about to leave to look for her anyway, but Binns' words and the lack of focus in his eyes caught Dumbledore's attention.

"I can see the veil! Armando, I can see it parting!"

##############################################################

From her cubicle, Myrtle could hear all the commotion going on in the Great Hall. It sounded like a party. Had they started the leaving Feast a week early? And of course, no one had thought to invite her. No one cared about miserable, moping Myrtle. No one wanted her around. Olive Hornsby certainly hadn't.

Myrtle could hear voices coming. They both sounded distraught, but at first they didn't seem to be having the same conversation.

"My robes are wet."

"Dumbledore shouldn't have done that! He should never have done that!"

"I never wet myself."

"It's all right, Kitten. I'm going to take you someplace safe. Someplace where Dumbledore can never get at you again."

"Even at night, I never have accidents in my bed."

"I've found a way that you and I can be together forever. No one will be able to come between us again. Not Dumbledore, not Hagrid, not anyone."

"I always wake up if I have to use the bathroom. I feel icky. You should not be carrying me, you will get icky too."

"It's all right, Kitten. I don't care about that, but if you want we can get you cleaned up before we go. The bathroom is right here."

The voices were right outside the door. The girl's became more agitated.

"No! Not Myrtle's bathroom!"

"Kitten, it's just a bathroom!"

"I do not like Myrtle!"

"Kitten, listen to me-"

Myrtle recognized that voice, it belonged to Tom Riddle. She used to have a crush on him. His third year, she had made plans to meet him at a tea shop in Hogsmeade. She had waited all day for him, but he had never showed. Just before curfew, when she was walking back to Hogwarts all alone, she had seen him with a group of his Slytherin friends. When she asked if he had forgotten their plans, he had laughed in her face. He called her a mudblood and he and all his friends had begun to chase her and throw mud at her. By the time she made it back to the castle, her glasses were caked with mud and her best robes were ruined.

"-Myrtle's dead. She can't hurt you, she can't do anything to you."

As soon as Tom opened the door, Myrtle ripped into him. "Get out! This bathroom is mine!" Myrtle saw the girl with him cringe as she got closer. "Go on Tom! Leave! And take the little bed wetter with you!"

Myrtle laughed watching the girl hold tightly onto Tom, digging her nails into his neck. She hoped it hurt a lot.

"I do not want to be here!" The girl seemed to be getting quite hysterical. "I do not like ghosts! Make her leave!"

That made Myrtle angry. She couldn't help it if she was a ghost.

"Kitten, we need to go inside. I promise you, we will only be in there a minute. We just need to use the sink."

The girl's shrieking was beginning to sound almost inhuman. "I want to leave!"

No one ever wanted to stay and visit with Myrtle. "Then go! The both of you!"

Wanting to seem very menacing, Myrtle feigned running her hands into the girl. That worked. With the girl sobbing into his shoulder, Tom finally gave up on trying to take her into the bathroom.

"It's okay, Kitten. We won't go there. I'll take you to my rooms."

Heading down the nearby stairs, Tom called back from over his shoulder. "I'm so very glad that it was you who was killed Myrtle!"

Miffed at his parting shot, but still quite pleased with herself, Myrtle hurtled herself back down the U-bend.

###################################################################

"I can see the veil! Armando, I can see it! It's parting!"

Armando Dippet shook his head and wished the school nurse would hurry. "Robert, you are not to go near the veil. Do you hear me!"

"The other side, it looks so wonderful!"

Around the room there were various injuries, but they appeared to be mostly minor; a few students with burns, some of the slower stampede participants had what appeared to be a broken limb or two, but mostly they just looked battered. Dippet still hung onto the hope that when the news reached the Ministry, he could get the matter dismissed as a gross exaggeration. However, if Binns were to die, if there were an actual fatality, there could be no hope of downplaying the evening's events.

"Do not go through the veil! Do you understand me, Robert? Do not go through the veil!"

"But it is so lovely. I want to go."

"It is not your time yet, Robert." It couldn't be. Not all of Dippet's efforts had been in vain. Yes, Binns had been supposed to die, Dippet had seen that long ago. But since then, Dippet had succeeded in his efforts to create a new future for Binns. He had seen a future in which Binns was still teaching for years to come. "You cannot go yet, Robert!"

Master Dumbledore was at his side, working his wand. The young man shook his head. "Armando, you need to let him go."

Looking at Binns, Dippet more than knew that the words were true, but he refused to give up. "Stay back from the veil, Robert! You mustn't go near it!"

Madame Griselda at last arrived, but she too could offer no hope. The shock, or perhaps all the bacon and the mashed potatoes, and the - well at any rate, it had been too much. Seeing the light leave his History of Magic Master's eyes, Dippet didn't believe it possible for the situation to get any worse. He cursed the man one last time. "Damn it, Robert! I said not to go through the veil. You never could listen-"

"Oh stop it, Armando." Madame Griselda had tears in her eyes as she ran her hand over Binns' eyes, closing them. "He's dead now. He can't hear you."

"Who's dead? Is it Shackleton? Step aside! Let me look! Oh, I hope it is Shackleton!"

Turning along with everyone else at the sound of that incredibly familiar voice, Dippet realized for the first, but not the last time that evening, that things could indeed become worse.

#################################################################

_He_ despised this place and all the memories that it held. His short interval away made his banishment back all the more cruel. The door opened. As _he_ listened to the young man's gentle and reassuring tone, trying to coax someone else into the room, what _he_ wouldn't give to be elsewhere!

Looking over against his better judgment, _he_ was startled to see it was the young girl that accompanied him. The girl seemed unsettled. Her face was damp and she clung desperately to the young man. Stroking her hair, he tried to soothe her.

"Let's get you in the bath. Would you like that?"

At the girl's nod, the young man carried her into the adjoining room. No longer able to move from frame to frame, his view was somewhat limited. Still, with the door left open, he did have an adequate view.

The young man turned on any tap that would produce bubbles. He left on the girl's robes, but transfigured them back into a nightdress before settling her into the water. The young man seemed almost tender as he helped to scrub the girl with no thought to getting himself wet. Once she was clean and calmed, the young man stepped back.

"I need you to stay here for a minute. Don't worry, I'll be right back."

The young man carefully closed the door after returning to the bedroom. Seeing the young man shed his clothing, the room's other occupant was filled with a very familiar sense of dread. Though the feeling didn't stop entirely, it lessened as the young man cast a cleansing charm on himself and redressed in a fresh set of robes. The feeling returned full force watching the young man collect his diary, a dagger, and a basin from his desk. He brought the items to the bed, but folded the coverlet over to conceal the knife's presence. The young man conjured a wide circle of candles around the bed.

Leaving the items on the bed, he returned to the other room to retrieve the girl. Helping her out of the bath, he toweled her off as best he could before casting upon her a drying spell to finish the work. Again lifting her up, he carried her to the bed. As the young man set about brushing out her still drying hair, the girl looked decidedly more like her old self. Her attempts to snuggle closer to the young man made it near to impossible for him to finish her hair.

She hadn't caught sight of the dagger yet.

The young man shifted her away so he could look at her as they talked. "Kitten, we need to talk about the future, about what we are going to do next."

Both of them were sitting on the bed, facing each other. The young man's back was to the fireplace. The girl's face was only partially visible over his shoulder. At his words, her expression fell.

"I do not want to go to classes tomorrow. Everyone is going to laugh at me because I wet myself."

_He_ couldn't see the young man's face, but by the tone of his voice, _he_ could surmise that it had darkened. "That was Dumbledore's doing and he will be made to pay for that. No one is going to laugh at you, Kitten. I promise you, no one is ever going to laugh at you, I will see to that. But never mind that right now. This is very important, Kitten. I need you to tell me something. I have a way that you and I can be together always. We won't ever have to worry about anyone trying to separate us again. Tell me, Kitten, would you like that? To be with your Tom always?"

The girl's head moved in a nod. The young man leaned forward and kissed her chastely.

"I want you to close your eyes, Kitten. Don't be frightened."

After the girl's eyes closed, the young man reached for the knife.

###############################################################

I'm not dead! Stop saying that!" Even as a has-been, Binns retained his ability to pout.

Pointing to the corporal Binns slumped on the floor, Madame Griselda begged to disagree. "But you are dead! Look!"

"I demand a second opinion!"

Armando Dippet ran his hands through what little hair he had left. Looking back and forth between the two Binnses, he tried to think of a way out. "Madame Griselda, is there nothing you can do?"

The aged woman shook her head. "He's dead. He's not partially dead, or almost dead, or nearly dead. He's dead dead."

"I'm not dead, you nitwit! If I were dead, I couldn't very well be here talking to you now could I?"

Madame Griselda's tears were a thing of the past. Any feelings of sympathy or empathy for her fallen colleague were also long forgotten. "_You_ are a ghost, you dunderhead!"

Binns went, if possible, beyond ghostly pale as he stuttered. "Ghost? Where? Keep it away! Oh, I can't stand those things!"

Madame Griselda gave up. It was Dumbledore who repeated her words very slowly. "Robert, you - are - a -ghost."

"No, stop saying that! All of you, stop saying that! I am not a ghost, you are!"

For a moment, no one spoke. It was the silence that convinced Binns. He looked so forlorn as he began to moan. "This isn't fair! I didn't want to be a ghost! Lazy do nothings, all of them!"

No, Dippet knew this was a path that Robert never would have chosen for himself. But it was too late now; on his orders Robert Binns had failed to cross over the veil before it had closed. He was trapped here now, to ever wander this side of the veil.

What folly of his it had been to endeavor to change the future. He of all people knew better; the Fates did not tolerate such things. But without regard, he had tried and indeed he had succeed in changing the future…just not for the better. But that was a matter for another time. For now…

Dippet began to question Madame Griselda. "Master Binns, his body is unmarked, is it not? No bites or claw marks to indicate Miss Grindelwald's dragon as a factor?"

"No, none. He had a coronary."

At Madame Griselda's confirmation, Dippet began to formulate a plan. "Master Kettleburn, relocate Master Binns to the Faculty room. Try to make it look like an accident."

Master Kettleburn smiled, but there was no mirth in it. "He died of a heart attack, but you want me to try to make it look like an accident? Should I lower him out a window? Or put a Red Cap in the room with him?"

"Be sensible! Just make it look natural! Like he fell asleep in a chair or something!"

Master Kettleburn gave up arguing and levitated the formerly Master Binns out of the room. The new incarnation of Master Binns was right behind.

"You bring me back here right now! I don't want to be a ghost!"

With that not exactly taken care of, but out of the way, Dippet began to relax. There was still hope of keeping the situation in hand. He held onto that thought right up until Minister Augustus spoke from behind him.

"Would someone care to tell me why it is that the Ministry just received over a dozen reports from concerned parents about a dragon being let lose in Hogwarts? And perhaps, when you are done with that, you could explain why when entering we saw one of your professors levitating the corpse of another professor up a staircase?"

The Minister was flanked on either side by the young auror, Mister Moody, and Madame Bagnold, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Visible behind them were nearly a dozen assorted aurors and hit wizards.

Not having a response at the ready for the Minister, Dippet found the blood curdling screams that started something of a welcome distraction….at least until he discovered the cause.

##################################################################

The girl had her eyes closed and her face remained impassive. _He_ couldn't see exactly what it was that the young man was doing, but by the pained hiss that came from the young man, _he _suspected the young man must have used the blade on himself and not on the girl as _he _had feared he would do. This suspicion was confirmed when the young man reached for the basin with the hand not holding the dagger. A deep gash was visible on his wrist. The basin was moved to between the two and out of his view. Still the soft pitter pattering sound of the blood droplets hitting the metal told him it was there.

"What is that noise?"

"Hush, Kitten. Just keep your eyes closed."

Spending his entire existence being shuffled around from room to room within the castle, _he_ wasn't very experienced in these things. It wasn't until the young man opened his diary and began chanting an incantation from it that _he_ realized how it was the young man planned to keep the girl with him always. He was trying to perform a blood marriage bonding ritual.

_He_ didn't have much knowledge of such marriage bondings. Given the wretched limitations of his existence, the need of such knowledge and the opportunity to gain it had never before presented itself. What _he_ did know was that a blood marriage bonding could only be ended by death. Unlike a non-blood bonding, which could be ended by either of the parties entering into a new marriage bonding, blood marriages were irreversible. An attempt by a blood married person to enter into a new bonding, blood or non-blood, whilst the person they were already bonded to was still living would prove fatal, in an excruciatingly painful way, for the one twice bonded.

With his part of the incantation complete, the young man began to coach the girl through the difficult pronunciation of her part. _He_ wished that he could see exactly what was going on, but his view was obstructed by the young man's back. _He _could still see the girl's face over the young man's shoulder, but at the young man's command, her eyes remained closed. _He_ had only the young man's words to go by to know what was gong on.

"This will hurt, but only for a minute and then it will be over and no one will ever be able to separate us again."

_He_ couldn't see what the young man did next, but he heard the girl's small cry of shock. The girl opened her eyes and the smallness of her last cry became very clear as much louder, she began to scream. And scream. And scream.

##############################################################

"Kitten!"

Using the continuing screams as a guiding beacon, Albus Dumbledore led the pack of Ministry people and aurors on the way down into the dungeons. Throwing open the door to the Slytherin Head Boy's room, Dumbledore didn't know what to expect. Still, if the events of the past few days, weeks even, had taught him nothing else, it had taught him to always be prepared with a wand at the ready.

"You bastard! What did you do to her!"

It was such a muggleborn reaction; rather than use his wand, Tom Riddle came running at him armed with a knife. Dumbledore remained exceedingly calm. Before Tom had even made it halfway across the room, Dumbledore cast a petrifying spell to stop his progress. Acting in a fury Tom failed to even attempt to block the spell.

Dumbledore recognized the shocked voice speaking from behind him as belonging to Alastor Moody. "That boy tried to kill you!"

Given the still continuing screams, Dumbledore was more concerned with checking on what Tom had succeeded in doing to Miss Grindelwald with the dagger. Moving past Tom's petrified form on the floor, Dumbledore recognized the paraphernalia on the bed. Had Tom tried to force himself on the girl?

In his haste to get to Miss Grindelwald, he paid no attention to the basin as he knocked it over or the unusual color of its contents as they spilled onto a book lying on the bed. He checked her over and finding no wounds, he gave a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin, he didn't finish the ritual!"

His words and his relief did nothing to calm Miss Grindelwald or stop her screams.

"Bloody hell, that's annoying. Someone make her stop! Use a 'silenco' if you have to."

"Always a charmer, Augustus!" Millicent Bagnold broke forward from the gaggle. "It's all right, dear. He can't hurt you now."

Millicent's efforts weren't working either. Kitten was finally startled into quieting down when the door to Tom's room was torn off its hinges by a panicked Hagrid.

"What's goin' on? I thought ah heard Kitten cryin'. There yeh are! Are yeh alright?"

Kitten wrapped her arms securely around Hagrid's neck, but said nothing. It was the Minster who spoke first to Hagrid and then the others in the room.

"Good heavens boy! What have they been feeding you? Make yourself useful and bring her up to Dippet's office. The Dementors have already been sent for; they should be meeting us there soon. This time, I intend to escort her to Azkaban personally. Oh, and someone bring the boy. Millicent, you are the law expert, but I dare say that was an attempted murder we just saw."

At the Minister's words, Dumbledore began to argue. He wasn't the only one. The room broke out into pandemonium.

"-It was an accident. It was only an accident."

"-Augustus, I will not sign off on sending a child to Azkaban."

"-Take the girl if you insist, but not Mr. Riddle."

"-Azkaban! Yeh canna take her there! I'll na let yeh!"

It was only the arrival of Sir Cadogan and his announcement that managed to return silence to the room. "Professor Dumbledore, it's a bit early for the evening report, but I thought you might like to know; **Muggles have begun storming the castle**."

####################################################################

After what happened to Master Binns, Armando Dippet couldn't possibly have conceived of things getting any worse. Yet coming here and finding the two of them like that…how had it come to this?

And now to top it all off, the castle was under siege.

Shackleton scoffed at the idea. "Muggles? I find that unlikely. This castle has very strong muggle repelling charms in place."

Master Dumbledore had a suspicious look in his eyes as he regarded the portrait that had just made the startling and very dramatic announcement. "Sir Cadogan, muggles are storming the castle? Exactly how many muggles?"

"Hordes!"

"Hordes?"

"Er, well, eh hem," The portrait stalled for a bit before answering. "Two. They are wandering the front hall as we speak."

Shackleton still didn't believe him. "What would muggles be doing here?"

"They have a list of demands!" The portrait gave a dramatic pause. He continued only at Master Dumbledore's prompting. "They are demanding we turn over all of our cats to them!"

"Whatever for?" Dippet inquired.

That seemed to have exhausted the paintings very limited knowledge.

"Master Shackleton, go get rid of them. Master Dumbledore go assist him in getting rid of them."

Surprise, surprise. Master Dumbledore began to refuse. The man listened about as well as the girl ever had. "I prefer to stay. Minister, there are things I feel I can best explain."

"That won't be necessary, Professor. I've already heard all the explaining I care to hear. The Dementors will be here momentarily. Millicent, Moody bring those two and come with me. The rest of you, go check the castle for any more _accidents_."

Dippet was no more pleased by the situation than was Master Dumbledore. "We can continue this discussion in my office."

From the corner of his eye, Dippet noticed Madame Bagnold with her hand on Dumbledore's shoulder, saying something to him. He couldn't hear what exactly was said, but whatever it was worked. Dumbledore, though only reluctantly, relented and followed after Shackleton.

Allowed to travel in the company of Mr. Hagrid and no doubt wholly unaware of the future that awaited her, Miss Grindelwald offered no resistance on the journey. Mr. Riddle was unpetrified and allowed to make the journey under his own volition. Mr. Moody seemed to be at a bit of a loss given the recent events. Still the auror kept a close watch on both prisoners.

Upon reaching his office, Madame Bagnold pulled the Minister aside and began arguing with him fiercely. "Augustus, I agree this is not the place for her, but there has got to be a third option. I will not sign an order of removal to Azkaban."

The Minister did not appear to be in a mind to discuss the situation with his underling. "You will sign it or you will sign a letter of resignation!"

Mr. Hagrid set Miss Grindelwald in a chair and began to plead his case. "Yeh canna take Kitten tah Azkaban! Sir, yeh dinna understand. She dinna mean any harm. She was jus' tryin' tah do somethin' special fer meh fer a surprise-"

"Hagrid's right! It wasn't Kitten's fault; it was all his doing! Take him instead! You know, he's killed before!" Mr. Riddle turned to him for corroboration. "Isn't that so, Headmaster Dippet?"

Dippet remained silent as he stared at the boy. Mr. Riddle's blue eyes flashed dangerously as he demanded Dippet once again act the part of an abettor in his misdeeds.

Dippet turned his back on Mr. Riddle as the boy renewed his efforts to place the blame upon Mr. Hagrid. "Hagrid killed Myrtle, but you covered it up for him. You told everyone it was an accident, but it wasn't! Tell him!"

Madame Bagnold looked interested at the outburst, but the Minister was not amused. "Boy, I don't have the first idea what it is you are talking about and what's more, I don't care. After what we just saw you try to do, do you think anyone is going to take your babblings seri-Good they are here!"

Dippet turned to see Minister Augustus was indeed correct. The Dementors of Azkaban had arrived. He found it odd; he would have thought those present would have experienced the approach of the two soul devourers before they actually came into view. However, it seemed the Dementors were being remarkably well behaved. It was then that Armando Dippet first began to understand the extent to which they could control the effect that they had upon people; the fact that it was a conscious and controllable choice for them. The room was filled with misery and despair, but no more than it had been when they entered. It was, he assumed, an attempt to forestall alarming the girl until they were already enroute to Azkaban.

Azkaban.

In the end, despite all his efforts it would seem she was destined to go there. He knew, he had always known, it was where she truly belonged. And yet, watching her…

The Minister saw no reason to delay. "The girl will come straight with us. Millicent, you can take the boy to the Ministry and process him through the regular channels."

When the Minister motioned Miss Grindelwald forward, toward the open door, for what might very well have been the first and only time ever in her life, she complied without arguing. However at the door she paused and held out her hand.

"I have to hold someone's hand _at all times _when I go outside. Professor Dumbledore said that is the new rule."

Mr. Moody and Madame Bagnold both looked aghast, he assumed at the concept that someone being sent to Azkaban would be so young as to require that kind of handholding.

Mr. Hagrid looked beside himself. "Let meh take 'er out."

"You can't do this. You can't take her there! What about Dumbledore? He used an Unforgivable Curse on her. Why aren't you taking him to Azkaban? At least let me go with her!"

Madame Bagnold spoke up. "Augustus, there has to be someplace else for her!"

The Minister stared at the girl's outstretched hand, revolted to find it near him. "Tell me, Millicent, would you take her home? Expose your children to her?"

Madame Bagnold stayed silent.

"I thought not." Ignoring Mr. Hagrid's offer and Mr. Riddle's outburst, the Minister beckoned one of the Dementors to approach the girl instead.

Dippet knew Azkaban was the place for her. He knew, he had always known, and yet seeing the delicate white fingers of her too small hand solemnly wrap round that rotting flesh…

"Wait."

Dippet opened the topmost drawer of his desk. He fingered the vial of poison there. It would be painless. Merciful and quick. Words that could not be used to describe her new life with the Dementors. He actually pressed his flesh against the well marked bottle. But he could not bring himself to do it. Despite knowing all that he knew was to come, even knowing it would not be murder on his part, merely a preemptive strike that would save the lives of countless others, he could not bring himself to do it.

He had delayed too long. The Minister was looking at him inquiringly. "Wait, what?"

Dippet moved his fingers to the vial next to it, to one of his stock of dreamless sleep potion. "I just thought a sleep potion would help for the journey."

The Minister came round his desk to stand next to him and inspect the vial. "Go on then, give it to her."

It would perhaps make for an even greater shock for the girl, to fall asleep here in his office only to awaken in her cell in the fortress of Azkaban. But no doubt for the Minister and the others, it would make the transport far less cumbersome.

Imbecile that he was, Dippet held out the vial towards her.

The girl raised an eyebrow. Her spirits seemed to have a revival as she no doubt thought they were again playing what Dumbledore had informed him was her most favorite game. "You cannot get me to drink that!"

Dippet sighed in frustration. "Just drink it. It is only a sleep potion."

Miss Grindelwald wore something near to a smile as she shook her head. "I do not like potions."

Dippet was near to screaming with frustration. "_Will you please for once just do as you are told_!"

Dippet was surprised to hear the Minister of all people join in, almost in defense of the girl. "Stop badgering the child, Armando. If she doesn't want to drink it, she doesn't have to."

Dippet saw the glass of water in the Minister's hand as he came out from behind Dippet's own desk. He saw the glass and the gleam in the Minister's eye. Dippet _thought_ he knew what was going on.

The Minister spoke to Miss Grindelwald in a sickly sweet tone suspiciously unlike any he had previously used toward her. The Minister greatly underestimated the girl's intelligence. "She doesn't have to take the potion…but she should have a drink before we leave. The trip will be a long one and there won't be anything to drink along the way."

The Minister offered out the glass to her. Still with an eyebrow raised, Miss Grindelwald answered him back in an equally deceptively sweet voice. "If there won't be anything to drink along the way…why do you not have some too?"

The Minister blinked. "You are a clever one , aren't you." After summoning a second glass of water, the Minister made certain to still hand her the first. "Drink up!"

Both drank from their respective glasses at the same time. Dippet had played this game with Miss Grindelwald far too many times. He was not so foolish as to miss what was going on. It was simply that he believed that even were Miss Grindelwald awake, the journey would still be easier for the others going with at least the Minister asleep. He has assumed that the Minister added to the glass one of the other vials of sleeping draught.

Lowering the glass from her lips, Miss Grindelwald began to cackle. "I tricked you! Night-night!"

The Minister's glass shattered against the floor. Dippet no doubt expected the Minister to be angry, but the ferocity of the Minister's response startled him.

"You murdering little-" The Minister lunged at the still laughing child. Miss Grindelwald's screaming began again, but was cut off as the Minister of Magic squeezed his hands around her throat.

Looking back at his still open drawer, Dippet saw an empty space where the _other_ potion had been.

The Minister's response had been entirely unexpected. It took a moment for the others to begin to move to intercede. By then, there was no need. The potion had indeed been fast acting.

Minister Augustus lost his grip on the girl and his lifeless form slumped to the floor. Miss Grindelwald again began her screams. Unlike the previous times, this time there were words discernable.

"I want my Da!"

Mr. Moody moved toward her to examine the Minister's prone form. "He's dead! Merlin, she killed him!"

Repeating her words, the girl was clearly beyond reason. There was a tension rising in the room. At first Dippet failed to realize it for what it was. He was too busy attempting to explain the situation to the young auror.

"She switched the contents of the glasses, Mr. Moody. Check the Minister's pockets, I believe you will find the vial somewhere upon his person. She _only_ switched the contents of the glasses!"

"I want my Da!"

Mr. Moody wasn't listening or if he was, he wasn't comprehending. "Merlin, she killed him. She killed him and she laughed while doing it!"

Mr. Riddle tried to quiet her, but she shrieked all the more at his approach. Finally Mr. Riddle relented and allowed Mr. Hagrid's efforts to comfort her. Mr. Hagrid's success was limited to getting her to revert back to the volume and frequency previous to Mr. Riddle's attempts.

Madame Bagnold tried to gain if not control of the situation, at least understanding. "You think Augustus tried to poison the girl?"

Dippet nodded. "There was a vial in my desk drawer. It is gone now."

Madame Bagnold pulled at the collar of her robes. "My Gods, I saw him take something from your desk. He must have thought it was another sleep potion. Why is it so hot in here?"

"The vial was clearly labeled."

Madame Bagnold began to cough, but she was successful at locating the vial. "My Gods - you - think he did it deliberately?"

"I want my Da!"

Dippet tried to respond. He tried but he found it very difficult to speak. As Mr. Moody struggled with words as well, Dippet belatedly realized what was going on.

"She's - doing - it! But what - is she-"

Still repeating her untenable request, the girl was clearly beyond reason. In her hysteria, she was wandlessly…she was wandlessly doing something. Summoning what energy he had left, Dippet groped around the top of his desk. Finding the letter opener that he kept there, he lurched towards the girl. He plunged the metal opener through her nightdress and into the flesh of her shoulder.

The girl's other wandless activities ceased as the protective enchantment upon her diverted all of her magical energies toward trying to heal the wound.

It was the well kept secret of the line of Themis. It was the way to render them no more powerful than any other wandless witch or wizard. Less powerful even , for even the most ordinary witches and wizards could be expected to perform startling feats of wandless magic in times of great distress. Themises however could not. For as long as the wound remained, the girl's body could do nothing with its magic, but try to mend itself and the wound could not heal properly until the obstruction was removed.

Her shrieks had also come to an end. Even when he removed the letter opener, she made no sound. As soon as the obstruction was removed her wound healed over. She allowed a very distraught Mr. Hagrid to gather her up in his arms with no outward reaction. To Mr. Hagrid's repeated inquiries into her condition, she gave no response.

While Dippet had expected his actions to temporarily bring about an end to her wandless activities, her prolonged silence was not an effect he had anticipated. In fact, he was beginning to find it somewhat alarming.

#######################################################################

Albus Dumbledore stood with Shackleton observing the pair of muggles standing in the main hall. The man looked completely disheveled and was mumbling almost incoherently to himself. Several times he walked into the closed castle doors in an attempt to get out.

"Must be going now. Really. A very important appointment. Can't be late. Already late. Must be late going."

The gentleman's conduct was fairly standard for a muggle who managed to wander too close to anti-muggle wards.

His female companion didn't seem to be as affected. While the male looked confused, she looked determined. As he again tried walking into the door, she used one hand to pull him away. She was carrying a cat in her other hand. The cat looked incredibly familiar. It took Dumbledore a minute to realize it was the missing familiar of one of the girls in his N.E.W.T. level class.

The woman noticed his presence. Her eyes locked with his and narrowed. Her voice had a heavy Scottish accent. "This isn't my kitten!"

Dumbledore watched the woman gently lower the cat to the ground. It immediately set off to find its real owner.

"I want my kitten!"

Her words sparked some kind of recognition for Shackleton. He opened a…dialogue with her. "Bloody hell! You're that damn McGonagall woman! The one who keeps writing me letters."

"I want my kitten!"

"Well you can't have it. Now move along."

"I want my kitten!"

"How did you know where the castle was? Never mind, that was a thoughtless question. How did you find your way back here by yourself?"

Dumbledore had to agree, that was a thoughtless question. Getting Wizarding families to send their children away to Hogwarts for schooling was hard enough to do. It was folly to think that muggles would allow their children to come to Hogwarts at the invitation of a complete stranger without themselves ever having seen or heard of the place. For the parents of a muggle child, the professor who arrived to deliver an enrollment letter also came carrying an invitation to a tour of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Even so, the anti-muggle wards were put back in place immediately afterwards and should have kept them from finding the location again. Dumbledore too would have been interested in learning how it was the couple managed to make it to the castle again, but Mrs. McGonagall seemed stuck on just one thought.

"I want my kitten!"

The man who Dumbledore had never met, but presumed to be Mr. McGonagall, was still babbling.

The Deputy Headmaster walked around the woman, examining her, and tried to get a handle on the situation. "Don't you feel like you have something else to be doing? Someplace else to be? Something very important that you have forgotten?"

"Yes…I…" The woman's brow furrowed in confusion before resettling into her former determined look. "My kitten is very important to me. I need to find her. She needs me."

Sighing, Shackleton directed his wand at the woman. "Oh to hell with this. Let's just wipe their memories, dump them in muggle London, and be done with it! Obliv-"

The woman grabbed his wand and snapped it in two. "Give me my kitten!"

"That wand was brand new! It still had wand box smell!"

"I _want _my kitten!"

Seeing that the two of them were about ready to start with the fisticuffs and Mr. McGonagall's head was beginning to bleed from again bumping into the door, Dumbledore thought it best to intercede.

"Mrs. McGonagall, Mr. McGonagall, please. Returning your cat to you, I'm afraid that isn't something we could possibly do. Perhaps we should go to my office. We can sit down and I can explain."

After leading them to his office and going through his explanation twice, Dumbledore listened to Mrs. McGonagall reiterate his words.

"So let me see if I have this correct. You cannot return my kitten to me because my kitten isn't really a kitten. She is a little girl who 'magically' took the form of a cat to avoid being noticed while her father was arrested for murder and has now herself been arrested for murder."

Dumbledore nodded. "Exactly."

Rather than look understanding, the woman looked highly annoyed with him. "Do you really expect me to believe that?" Her determination was turning into something far darker. "I would have been much more likely to believe it if you had tried it when I first wrote requesting my cat back. Instead you mailed to me a full grown cat that looked nothing at all like my kitten and a note explaining that she, now a he by the way, had been in an unfortunate potions accident. Since then you have ignored all my letters - **Sit back down!**"

She looked so absolutely furious, Dumbledore found himself almost involuntarily doing as he was told.

The woman frowned at him. "Not you! Him!"

Dumbledore was deeply embarrassed to discover the last part of the woman's diatribe had been directed not at him, but at her own husband. While she had been talking, Mr. McGonagall had stood up and started for the door. It took only one look at his wife for him to forget about the wards and comply as well.

Dumbledore tried to regain a foothold in the conversation and clear up a bit of a misconception on the lady's part. "I personally have mailed you no cats and I've never seen any of these letters."

He looked to Shackleton, hoping for some input. "Blasted muggles! Curse you all when I get my wand working!" The Deputy Headmaster was still otherwise occupied with his wand pieces and a roll of tape.

The woman crossed her arms. "Then you can go bring me my kitten right now. And I'm warning you, no funny business. I would recognize my kitten anywhere. Try passing off another of your poor imitations and I'll come back with a bobby!"

"Which one?"

The woman repeated his same words back to him. "Which one?"

Dumbledore tried rephrasing his question. "Which Bobby? Sadly, I must say Professor Robert Binns is no longer with us."

"Sadly? That's a matter of opinion." Shackleton appeared to not be entirely ignoring the conversation.

"The police! If you don't bring me my kitten right now, I will return with the police and have you arrested for theft or kidnapping or what have you! I have her papers with me right here! I assure you they are all in order!"

The woman removed some pages from her hand purse. She waved them at him, but Dumbledore didn't even get a chance to look at them. Always ever oh so helpful, Shackleton chose that moment to rejoin the conversation.

"Muggle police can't arrest us. We're wizards. Our laws don't apply to you and your laws don't apply to us. Separation of Wizarding and muggle communities. Besides, for breaking my wand, instead of giving your cat back, I'm going to give her to the house elves to make a stew-"

"Shackleton!" Dumbledore couldn't believe his colleague's behavior. All Dumbledore could think about right now was getting upstairs to Dippet's office to find out what was going on with Miss Grindelwald. The girl's experiences this evening, both those at his hands and those at Riddle's, had been nothing short of traumatic. He had Millicent Bagnold's assurances that a child wasn't going to be sent to Azkaban so long as she was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but given Minister Augustus' attitude, her assurances weren't reassuring enough. Dumbledore wanted nothing more than to be upstairs and here he was stuck with Shackleton playing games. "I apologize for my colleague."

"They are just muggles! Obliviate them and set them on their way!"

"I want my kitten!"

Dumbledore wondered if it was the anti-muggle wards or if the woman was always this single-minded in all her pursuits. "Your kitten isn't a kitten anymore!"

The woman paused and a look of uncertainty crossed her face. For a moment Dumbledore almost believed he had succeeded in getting through to her.

"I want my cat!"

Dumbledore sighed. How to get through to this woman? How to get her to understand? How to possibly make her see - that was it! He had to take her to see. He would bring her to Dippet's office and show her. It would also be an opportunity for him to find out what was happening with Miss Grindelwald.

Leaving Shackleton to continue wrestling with the Spell-O-Tape, Dumbledore led the McGonagalls up to the Headmaster's office. He held open the door to allow the lady to pass before him.

Mrs. McGonagall didn't even manage to properly get over the threshold before a blur of white nightdress and black hair hurtled itself into her arms. Had Dumbledore not been there to brace her, the woman surely would have been knocked back down the stone staircase.

The woman was startled to find herself the recipient of such a zealous response. She tried to pry the girl's fingers from around her neck. "Who? What are you doing?"

Not having any of it, Miss Grindelwald held on as if her very life depended on it. She seemed almost to be trying to burrow inside of the woman.

"Kitten, that there's yer mum, isn't it?"

Hagrid's words had no effect on Kitten, but they put an immediate end to Mrs. McGonagall's struggles. Her hands moved to gently brush away the cloud of hair obscuring the girl's face.

"Kitten?" she tentatively asked, turning her head down to look into the troubled gray eyes. She stroked the girl's cheek, now free of hair. "You _are_ my little kitten, aren't you?"

Kitten's only response was to nestle her head in the crook of the woman's neck.

"Can she speak?"

Perhaps a better question would have been could anyone speak, because no one in the room even attempted to answer. It was only then, looking around at the others, that Dumbledore noticed the Minister on the floor. By the woman's gasp, Dumbledore thought it safe to assume she too had noticed.

Dumbledore looked to those who had been in the room before him. "What happened?"

"She happened! She killed him!"

At Moody's shouted words, the McGonagall woman shook her head and held her arms tightly around the girl.

Dippet spoke in a calmer voice. "He put poison in her glass, but she switched it."

The woman again tried to separate herself from Kitten, if only slightly, so that she might examine her. She gave up with a sharp cry when refusing to let go, like a cat with its claws, Miss Grindelwald began to dig her nails into the woman's flesh. Still, the woman had gotten enough of a look to notice the presence of a large spot of still damp blood on the girl's nightdress. "Good Lord, what did they do to you?"

Moody was outraged. "What did we do to her? She tried to kill us – all of us!"

With Kitten gathered awkwardly in her arms, Mrs. McGonagall turned to her husband who had been wandering the room, pinging off the walls like a muggle pinball. "We're leaving."

"Yes," the man agreed readily. "Must be gone getting."

Seeing the way the girl clung so desperately to the woman, Millicent Bagnold spoke regretfully. "You two may leave, but the girl needs to come with me. A man – two men are dead. There will need to be an inquest. Merlin knows, I was here for part of it and even I am not certain of exactly what happened."

The muggle woman didn't seem to understand. Or she just didn't care. "I am taking my Kitten home with me now."

"I'm afraid you can't do that. We wizards have laws-"

Mrs. McGonagall interrupted Bagnold. "We have laws too! Laws that dictate how you can and cannot treat a child!"

Bagnold went somewhat crimson. "We have laws like that too." She tried a different tactic. "She isn't yours to take."

"She most certainly is!" Managing to keep her very oversized Kitten held up with one hand only because of the girl's death grip on her, the angry Scotswoman again produced Kitten's paperwork for Millicent Bagnold. "These are her papers. I assure you, they are all in order."

Dumbledore shook his head. Perhaps bringing the McGonagalls here had not been a good idea. Certainly it seemed that recovering Kitten from them was going to prove to be another agonizing ordeal for the girl. "Mrs. McGonagall, you can purchase a cat in a pet stop, but you cannot buy a little girl."

Millicent had taken the papers from Mrs. McGonagall and was staring down at them. "She didn't buy her at a pet store. These…these say…adoption papers." She held it out to Dumbledore, her finger still pointing at the heading of the page.

Mrs. McGonagall confirmed it. "I don't like pet stores. We went to an animal shelter. You don't 'buy' the animals there, you just pay an 'adoption' fee to cover the expense of spaying or neutering."

Moody interrupted. "They can call it 'selling', they can call it 'adopting', either way, it doesn't matter. Muggle laws don't apply to wizards, they have no claim to her."

Bagnold was looking over the papers carefully. Mr. McGonagall, with his muttering and stumbling, seemed to her to be a distraction. "Would someone do something about him!"

Dippet, as Headmaster, was able to disable the anti-muggle ward affecting him. The man still looked slightly dazed, but at least he had stopped walking into the furniture.

Bagnold seemed to still be thinking things out as she spoke. "It has Loki's signature on it as the one who left her there to be put up for adoption; he initiated the adoption proceedings. At the time of the signing, Loki was a Ministry employee…and therefore a Ministry representative. I believe these papers can be considered binding, Alastor."

Bagnold looked from the papers in her hand to the Dementors before continuing. "In which case, it would be _we _who have no claim on her…and our laws which would not apply to her. The muggles are free to take her."

Moody shook his head. "Millicent, you don't understand! You can't just let her leave!"

"Alastor, they want to take her. She wants to go with them. Let them take her! What would you have me do? She's only a child -"

"She's killed! She'll do it again! You know she will!"

By her switch to a more formal designation, Bagnold made it clear that her mind was made up. "_Mr. Moody_, for the moment, I am the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the acting Minister of Magic. The decision is mine to make, not yours. The muggles can take her home and like any muggleborn witch or wizard, when the proper time comes, she will receive a letter inviting her to attend Hogwarts and enter our society."

Right at that moment, Dumbledore could have kissed Millicent Bagnold, warts and all. While her interpretation wasn't completely outside the realm of reason, he knew she was making much more of a stretch to find a suitable solution than anyone else at the Ministry would. Certainly more than the late Minister would have done.

Moody, however, was beside himself. "You cannot be serious! Millicent, you don't know what you are doing!"

Millicent ignored Moody and directed her attention to Mrs. McGonagall. "You understand that she needs constant supervision."

Mrs. McGonagall nodded. "She will be with me all the time. I don't work."

Bagnold nodded. "She can be…dangerous to be around. I can send an owl with you that you can use to contact one of us if there are any…problems that arise, but I can't promise that in the time it takes for the owl to reach us…"

Mrs. McGonagall was determined. "_We will be fine_."

Bagnold turned to Mr. McGonagall. "How do you feel about this?"

"I…we wanted a cat to keep my wife company now that our son is going away to university…" Mr. McGonagall looked like he still hadn't quite caught up entirely on what was going on. "…but, I think a little girl would do even better."

Bagnold spoke a bit less than certainly. "That's settled then -"

"No! It isn't settled! You can't do that! She's a murderer!"

"Moody, stay here with Mr. Riddle. We can get him to the Ministry and sorted out when I return." None too pleased with Moody, Bagnold motioned the others towards the door. "Let's get you on your way then."

"Here now, you're a bit too big now for Mum to be carrying all round." Kitten still hadn't said a word, but she went willingly enough to Mr. McGonagall when he reached out to take her from his wife. "That's a good kitty."

Dumbledore didn't think much on it at the time, but Tom Riddle did express his unhappiness at the arrangement and though they didn't say anything, no doubt the Dementors were less than pleased as well.

Leaving Moody and Dippet behind to supervise a livid Tom, Dumbledore accompanied a happy Hagrid, a nervous Bagnold and the two very disappointed Dementors as they escorted the now three McGonagalls from the grounds.

###################################################################

Alastor Moody couldn't believe it. She killed him. She killed him and she laughed while doing it. But one wasn't enough for her. She had tried to kill everyone in the room. She would have too if it hadn't been for Dippet.

But the Minister hadn't been her first. No, her first had been that poor, pitiful, elderly professor.

Two men were dead and it was his fault. Moody knew if he had done his job the right way, if he had told the Minister the truth as soon as he learned it, none of this would have happened. But he hadn't. He had been taken in by the facade of a child-like appearance and failed to recognize her for the sadistic creature that she truly was. And now two men had lost their lives because of it.

Millicent Bagnold was about to make the very same mistake. She was going to let that _thing _just walk away. She was going to give her a chance to do it again. Moody had to stop Bagnold. He had to prevent her from repeating his mistakes.

"Watch him. I'll be back in a few minutes for him."

Leaving the Headmaster to guard wandless Riddle, Moody took off to again try to talk some sense into the new acting Minister of Magic.

###################################################################

He had asked too much and now he was being made to suffer for it. In the end, they would all be made to suffer for it.

Armando Dippet had long held the Vision of the part that the Fates had assigned Mr. Riddle to play in the distant future. He had Seen him put an end to the Grindelwald girl's, by then a woman, attempts to slaughter all of the adults within the halls of Hogwarts.

That Mr. Riddle's stopping her would come to pass, he had been sure, but only after many lives had already been lost. He had not been content with that. Instead, he had pressed Mr. Riddle to exert an influence upon the girl and alter the future before any of it had a chance to come to pass.

An influence had been exerted, but not at all in the manner or direction that Dippet had desired. Instead of Mr. Riddle redeeming her, the girl had succeeded in corrupting Mr. Riddle. It was an outcome that even without the gift of Sight, Dippet of all people should have been able to foresee.

And how she had corrupted him! Of his own volition, Dippet was certain that the boy would never have forced himself upon the girl. Nor would he have attempted his assault of Master Dumbledore. Dippet had little…Dippet had no doubt that today's actions by Mr. Riddle were the girl's affect. Now the girl was to walk free and Mr. Riddle was to be sent to Azkaban.

The boy had some failings. He had, in the past, done some things that Dippet had found it difficult, though necessary, to overlook. However, Dippet had always been confident that the boy would eventually find his true self. His Vision of that Future event surely proved that. Hadn't it?

But Azkaban was not the sort of place to which one went to find his or herself. It was not a place of rehabilitation, but of castigation. One could not suffer the horrors held within the walls of that fortress without being irrevocably and devastatingly altered. Even if the period of imprisonment for the young man's crimes did not extend far enough into the future to prevent him from being available to stop the girl, Dippet found it unlikely that his time at Azkaban would leave him with any ambition to act to stop her.

If Mr. Riddle would no longer stop her, who would?

"Mr. Riddle, you must leave now, before the auror and the others return. We must send you into hiding."

"What about Kitten? I won't leave her with those muggles!"

How complete was her corruption of the boy, how total her control over him that even facing an interval in Azkaban and her abandonment of him, Riddle refused to be willingly parted from her?

"Mr. Riddle, you must_. _There is no time to argue and no other alternative. Do not fret_. When the time is right, you will find her again_. _The owlry, Mr. Riddle. Look to the owlry. You will find her there, but only when the time is right."_

Dippet summoned the boy's wand and other possessions from his rooms, before bidding him on his way.

_tbc_


	51. Chapter 51

_Epilogue_

A/N Thanks M

With this chapter, this segment of the story can be considered complete.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Armando Dippet frowned. He found his Transfiguration Master's pacing nearly as intolerable as the wait for his Deputy's return.

"Master Dumbledore, it is summer holiday. Have you no place else to be? Your family has holdings in London and Hogsmeade, do they not? Or perhaps you would care to travel. There is the continent, or I hear our colonies in America are nice this time of year."

"Headmaster, we no longer hold any colonies in America."

"Then go find a thirteenth use for dragon's blood! Master Dumbledore, you are bothering me."

"Why of all people did you send Shackleton to deliver her Hogwarts letter? Why not me, or Kettleburn?"

Dippet was not accustomed to being second guessed. "Master Shackleton is more than capable of delivering a letter."

"Armando, the man loathes muggles. The last time he saw the McGonagalls, he threatened to 'Obliviate' them. Repeatedly, I might add!"

"You needn't worry. I made him leave his wand here."

Dumbledore sighed. "I don't think that's necessarily my point."

"What _is_ your point, Master Dumbledore?"

"I just don't believe Shackleton to be the most…conciliatory person you could have sent. He won't give the kind of impression we need-"

"-Master Shackleton is the Deputy Headmaster of this school. I am relatively certain he is capable of delivering a letter. I even told him to go in muggle attire."

"Muggle attire? Do I dare to even ask?"

Dippet again tried to dismiss the young man's concerns. "Master Archie said he had some muggle garments that he could lend him."

"What kind of muggle garments?"

"I don't know; I didn't ask. Master Dumbledore, does it really matter?"

Perhaps it did, Dippet realized as Master Shackleton entered his office in a flowered lady's nightdress. Thankfully, Dumbledore left off that line of questioning and turned his attentions to Shackleton. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well how did it go!"

"It went…it went."

"So Kitten will be returning to Hogwarts in September."

"Well…no, I didn't say that. Well…actually, no I did at one point say that, but not to you."

Master Dumbledore hadn't yet allowed Dippet to get a word in edgewise and didn't seem about to anytime soon. "What _did_ you say to them? _What exactly did you say?_"

Shackleton shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, I said that she would be coming to Hogwarts. She said-"

"-'She said'? The girl said or the muggle woman said?" Dippet felt it necessary to interrupt at this point to be clear. The last time he had seen her, that day in his office, she had ceased with any saying.

Dippet had last spoken to Madame Bagnold at the inauguration ball after she had been officially elected to the post of Minister of Magic. It was some months after the girl's departure. He had inquired if there had been any word from the McGonagalls. Bagnold had informed him that the muggle woman had owled her progress reports the first month or two, but the reports had stopped abruptly. Though there had been some improvements, the last she had heard, the girl had still not spoken even a word.

That had been some years ago, but he had never made further inquiries.

Still, he thought it would be a good omen if she had again taken up speaking.

"The girl. She said that she did not want to come. I said that I didn't care what she wanted. The muggles said that if she didn't want to go, they weren't going to send her. We were…talking and I said something to the effect that I wasn't leaving without having someone to bring back -"

"-Shackleton, classes don't start for more than a month."

"Who asked you, Dumbledore? I mean really, who asked you? Well at any rate, I said it and the girl…she got a little…_peeved_."

Master Dumbledore's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean 'peeved'?"

"Just…you know…_peeved_."

"No, I don't know 'peeved'. What do you mean 'peeved'?"

"Oh, you'll know _it_ if you see _it_, believe me. Anyway, I very much doubt that she will be joining us this year."

Master Dumbledore looked very nearly devastated. Dippet knew the Transfiguration Master had been waiting upon the girl's return for the opportunity to perhaps make amends for his earlier acts. The idea that this opportunity might not be coming seemed to trouble him greatly.

Shackleton too noticed the change in Dumbledore's demeanor. "I know, I was looking forward to having her back too. I was going to use her during my advanced section on dark creatures."

Dippet dismissed his Deputy's comments. "Of course she is coming here!"

"No, they have already started making plans for her to go to a different school."

"What school? Beauxbatons? Durmstrang?"

"No…er…swan school."

"Swan school?" Dippet repeated in disbelief.

"She doesn't belong here, Armando. She's been damaged. She's something of a simpleton. A vicious, foul tempered simpleton, but a simpleton nonetheless."

Dippet sighed. Master Dumbledore had been right; Master Shackleton apparently could not be relied upon to deliver a simple letter. Dippet took out a fresh piece of parchment and began to compose a new one. He would write the muggles to inform them that he would be stopping by to see them on Sunday afternoon. "I will go myself and put an end to this nonsense."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

With or without a reply, the owl never returned. Despite, or because of this, Armando Dippet determined to keep his word and actually go. He did however alter his plans in one regard. He made a point of arriving several hours earlier than his letter had indicated. He wanted to catch the muggles unaware so that he might get a more honest portrayal of the girl's new life.

To that end, when he arrived outside the house in Darlington, Scotland, he used a charm to enhance his hearing and a potion to disillusion himself so that he would not be noticed. He succeeded in disillusioning himself just in time to avoid being seen by the muggle gentleman, still in his slippers and dressing gown, come to retrieve the newspaper from the side yard. Dippet followed him round to the back of the house, but remained outside as the muggle entered through the kitchen door. From the open window of the nearby dining room, Dippet had a perfect vantage point of the girl seated at the dining room table and the muggle man as he took the seat beside her. Both still in their dressing gowns, they appeared to be just settling down to breakfast.

The muggle gentleman was ignoring his plate in favor of the newspaper and a cup of coffee. "Meadow's Field is running today, Kitty. I believe that pony owes you a quid after the last time. Imagine, stumbling out of the gate like that!"

A little louder, he called out to his wife, presumably in the next room. "Mum, are you sure that fellow is going to be stopping by today?"

The muggle woman entered the dining room with a platter of bacon. She divided the platter's contents onto the three plates already on the table while answering. "That is what it said in the letter. The school Headmaster himself will be coming."

"Pity," the man said turning the newspaper page. "He couldn't have come on a Saturday?"

The muggle woman frowned at him while tightening the belt of her garishly tartan dressing gown. Turning her attentions to the girl, she questioned her. "Minerva, are you sure that _this_ is what wizards and witches wear?"

The girl looked to be seriously contemplating the matter as she chewed the last of her second piece of bacon. "They wear…robes."

Mr. McGonagall smiled over the top of his paper. "I like that! Wearing bathrobes all day, sounds very relaxed!"

"Drafty is what it sounds like to me!" Mrs. McGonagall rejoined before being overcome by a fit of coughing.

Mr. McGonagall frowned. "So exactly how long are you going to have that cough before you finally go see the doctor?"

She ignored the question that was directed at her by offering her own. "What else can you remember about witches and wizards? We want to make our visitor feel welcome."

The girl looked down at the untouched toast and eggs on her plate. "Wizards _only_ like to eat bacon."

The muggle woman sighed. "You have already had your two pieces of bacon. Try the eggs."

The girl frowned. "At Hogwarts, you can have all the bacon that you want."

The muggle woman rose from her seat. "At the McGonagall's, everyone gets two pieces of bacon and then they learn to make due with eggs and toast or maybe some cereal."

"The cereal you make always comes out-" the girl wrinkled her nose as if it were the most revolting thing imaginable, "-wet."

The muggle gentleman spoke over the top of his newspaper. "Ooh, she's got you there, love!"

The muggle woman rolled her eyes at the gentleman. "Yes, well you don't have to worry about soggy cereal today." She kissed the girl on the top of the head before turning to again enter the kitchen.

As soon as the muggle woman's back was turned, Mr. McGonagall handed his bacon over to the girl. As she happily ate his two pieces of bacon, the muggle spoke from behind his newspaper. "You be a good girl and do as your mum says. You know the rules; two slices of bacon a day per person and then you try something else. If you want to, you can serve nothing but bacon all day when you have your own childr-" The muggle cut off his own words to rephrase his statement. "-when you are older, but for now, you need to listen to mum."

The girl's behavior was begining to unnerve Dippet. He had disillusioned himself so he was quite sure that she couldn't see him, but she kept staring out the open window in his direction. Despite the appearance of being absorbed in his newspaper, the muggle man noted her behavior.

"Something wrong, Kitten?"

"There is a man outside the window."

Dippet kept perfectly still as the man put down the newspaper and approached the window. "I don't see anyone."

The girl agreed and disagreed with him. "I do not see anyone either, but there _is _a man there."

The muggle went so far as to stick his head out the window to look around. He of course saw nothing. Pulling his head back in, the muggle's look of confusion turned to one of understanding. "I get it! It's that Claude Rains fellow!" Lowering his voice conspiratorially, he added, "Best not to mention him to mum. I don't think she would approve."

Ruffling her hair on the way, he returned to his seat and again picked up his newspaper. The girl, however, continued staring out the window.

From the kitchen, the muggle woman's voice could be heard. "You had best get dressed for church if you want to make the eleven o'clock mass."

Too quiet to be heard in the next room, the muggle man spoke back. "And who said that I want to make the eleven o'clock mass?"

After the man reluctantly left the room, the girl stood and leaned out the window. Though it had been his plan to spend longer observing the muggles without their notice, when the girl began casting the contents of the salt cellar into his general direction, Dippet decided it best to walk back around to the front of the house and properly announce his arrival.

He knocked only once before the muggle man came to the door. He didn't seem to remember Dippet – not terribly surprising given the anti-muggle wards – but because Dippet hadn't seen fit to himself wear muggle clothes, the muggle was immediately able to piece his identity together.

"You're that fellow! You're early!"

"Yes," Dippet agreed. "I hope that isn't an inconvenience."

"No, I would describe it as rather convenient. Come in."

Having heard the knock, the muggle woman too came into the room. The girl trailed after her. Dippet hadn't yet said a word to her, and already the girl was sending sour looks his way.

"I guess this means I'll have to miss church. Pity!" His disappointment seeming incredibly insincere, the muggle man sprinted back up the stairs.

"Please come in. Have a seat." The woman led him into the sitting room. She seemed about to say something more, but began to cough instead. She motioned to excuse herself from the room while she attempted to recover. Though the woman seemed reluctant to leave him alone with the girl, the girl chose to remain behind.

Though it had been several years since he had seen the girl last, she seemed very much the same. Perhaps a bit taller, and her hair with its braids woven atop her head was arranged far more elaborately than anyone at Hogwarts could ever be bothered to do. But she was still too thin and pale, and her eyes still held that look of apathy towards him. Shackleton was correct, she did speak, and when she spoke, the condescending tone that he recalled was unchanged.

"You were outside the window. What were you doing there?"

It would not do to have the muggles learn he was secretly watching them. Besides, it wasn't really possible for her to know that. "I was not."

"Yes, you were."

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you were."

"It isn't polite to contradict your elders!"

"It _isn't _polite to peep in windows!"

"_I was not_!"

"You were too!"

Thankfully, the girl herself changed the subject. "My mum says that I do not have to go with you if I do not want to, and _I do not want to_."

"What you want is of no consequence."

"No, _what you want is of no consequence!_"

Dippet shook his head. Truthfully, he hadn't actually foreseen her coming back with him, nor had he any Visions of her school days. He had, however, foreseen her at Hogwarts many times later. As the others could not happen without the one, surely the one also had to occur?

"There are certain events that are to come to pass. For these events to occur, there are things that you must do. In the past I have, on your behalf, attempted to resist, I have tried to make alterations, but I have since come to realize that it is of no use to battle against the forces of destiny. These happenings were already set into a course of motion long before you were born. Though I may neither like, nor approve, of the things that you are to do, that does not change the fact that you are to do them."

There was more that he wished to say, but the girl, insolent as ever, interrupted him. "How about no?"

"You will return to Hogwarts. It is your destiny."

"You can bring Peeves. It can be his destiny."

"Peeves?" Dippet questioned, recalling his Deputy having mentioned something like that several times.

Dippet heard a slight popping noise right before someone, or something, very forcefully tweaked his nose.

"GOT YOUR CONK!"

Dippet turned to discover the culprit; a little man, about the girl's height, with dark eyes and a wide grin. On further examination, Dippet realized it wasn't a man, but rather a poltergeist.

The girl explained the obvious. "He does not _really_ have your nose. He just holds his thumb between two of his fingers to make it _look_ like he has your nose."

Next the poltergeist 'aided' him in removing his hat.

Hoping that an offering of confections would prevent the girl from continuing to send her poltergeist after him, Dippet reached into his robe pocket to produce the package of ice mice that Mr. Hagrid had been sent to procure on his behalf. The girl gave a gasp of astonishment when he showed it to her. "_That _is _candy!_"

She simply stared at it wide eyed as he held it out to her. "Go on, take it."

Her eyes were fixated longingly on the box of sweets as she shook her head. "I do not want candy."

"Well of course you do!" Of all the contrary things to say! If she didn't want it, why was she looking at it as if it were the most wonderful thing in the world? It was clear she was still determined to be as difficult as humanly possible. "Take it."

As she again shook her head, her eyes kept darting between the doorway the muggle woman had gone through and the box of sweets. "I do not want it."

"If you don't want it _now_, take it and put it someplace for _later_."

She began to lecture him. "_That_ is hoarding and we are not supposed to hoard things."

"What? No, just…" He had been back in her presence for not even five minutes and already she had started again. "…just save it for later."

She spoke to him as if he were the impertinent child, not her. "There is a fine line between saving something for later and hoarding, and I _cannot_ tell the difference."

Dippet stood there staring at her, not sure what to make of that declaration.

"What do you think you are doing! Is that candy? You put that away right now!" The muggle woman had returned and now she was reprimanding as well. "Where did that come from? You did _not_ have that when you were at the door!"

"They are only ice mice. They are a harmless sweet." Dippet was beyond befuddled. "Regardless, she doesn't want it. She used to adore confections…"

The muggle woman scowled at him. "Of course she wants it! But she can't have it! We don't allow her to have any candy or sugary sweets."

Dippet tried to defend himself. "She didn't tell me that she _couldn't_ have it. She simply said she _didn't want_ to have it."

Dippet didn't understand; in all the time that he had known her, sweets were all that he had ever seen her eat. If they didn't feed her sweets, what did they feed her? "You don't allow her any sweets at all?"

Mrs. McGonagall gave a pointed glare at her husband, who had also returned, as she answered. "No, I don't and _no one else_ _is supposed to either_. Candy causes cavities. When she is willing to let the dentist put his fingers in her mouth to clean her teeth, then she can have candy.

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but the woman amended her statement. "When she is willing to let the dentist put his fingers in her mouth _and let him take them back out without biting him_, then she can have candy."

The girl closed her mouth without comment.

Almost grudgingly, Mrs. McGonagall let on. "Occasionally, I allow her to have ice cream as a special treat."

Mr. McGonagall shrugged. "I encourage her. It's not that I mind the dentist, though actually I do, but I just think it's a good habit to keep her in. I fully support the idea that if you have something you wouldn't like bit off, you shouldn't have it near her mouth. If nothing else, it will certainly discourage the boys as she gets older."

Mrs. McGonagall glared at her husband. "The biting is not a major priority with us at the moment. Beyond the dentist, or should I say dentists, there really isn't anyone else with a reason to put their fingers in her mouth. Besides, I've noticed a pattern. The less sugar she has in her diet, the less energy she has to be active in certain _other_ ways."

"I'm afraid I don't follow you. Active in what ways?"

Mrs. McGonagall said nothing, but inclined her head in the direction of the girl's poltergeist, who had begun ransacking the hat cupboard by the door.

Dippet scoffed at the idea. "Am I to believe you are suggesting that the girl's magical abilities are related to her sugar intake?" Thinking of his sweet adulating Transfiguration Master, Dippet went on. "Madame, if that were the case, Albus Dumbledore would be the most powerful wizard in-" Dippet trailed off with a frown as he thought about what he was saying.

A still merry Mr. McGonagall broke the awkward moment that Dippet had brought upon himself. "Won't you have a seat? I'll go make us all some tea."

Dippet took the offered chair, while the woman and the girl took the loveseat. The girl's mannerisms were still quite feline; she tucked her feet beneath her and curled up against the woman. The way the woman kept gently stroking her hair only added to the impression.

Seeing the empty owl cage on the bottom of the cupboard that the poltergeist was in, before it slipped his mind, Dippet wanted to inquire after the owl that had brought his letter. "The owl I sent to you, it never returned to the castle. Do you know what became of it?"

"It…" Mrs. McGonagall faltered for a moment in her petting of the girl happily curled up beside her. "…died."

"Oh, that is surprising. The journey here was not at all a long one. It seemed to me quite young and healthy."

"Yes," the muggle agreed, "it was. And friendly. Maybe a little too friendly."

"Ah, yes. Perhaps it picked up an illness from one of the other owls."

The woman just smiled weakly at him in response.

"You know you could have used the owl Madame Bagnold left with you. If you just write the name of your intended recipient, it will find them in most cases."

"We don't have that owl anymore. It…died too."

"Oh, most unfortunate." These people were muggles; Dippet didn't know what to say to them, but he wanted to make some attempt at conversation. Looking about the rest of the room, he indicated the scratching post by the fire place. "I see you managed to acquire a cat after all."

"That's mine!" The girl transformed and made her way to the post. She began viciously clawing it, giving him the evil eye all the while.

"She still transfig-changes into a cat?"

Mrs. McGonagall nodded. "Sometimes. Not very often these days. She used to do it quite often. When we first brought her back here, she would often curl up by the fireplace and just watch us. Not really interacting with us, just watching us. She still does that on occasion, but very rarely. Usually when she changes these days, it isn't because she is unhappy, it's because she…" The muggle's gaze darted over to the empty cage as she continued speaking. "…sees something that excites her interest."

Returning with the tea tray and taking the seat recently vacated by the girl, the other muggle added his thoughts, disturbing as they were. "Yarn is her complete undoing. If she even thinks she sees a ball of yarn, its all over. My wife has had to give up knitting entirely."

Mrs. McGonagall tried to silence her husband. "Hush you!" To Dippet, she continued. "He's only teasing. That isn't why I gave it up."

As well as tea, the muggle had brought a plate of biscuits. To his wife's displeased look, the muggle reasoned. "Special occasion, we have company."

Seeing the platter of ginger newts, the girl transformed back. Despite the ample alternative seating, she insisted on insinuating herself between the two muggles.

The muggle woman removed a small case from the pocket of her dressing gown. From it she removed two white sticks and offered one in his direction. Dippet took the stick and placed it into the teacup her husband had just handed him. He watched surprised as rather than do the same, she set hers on fire and put it in her mouth.

Taking a sip of his tea, he practically gagged. Clearly muggles had no idea how to brew a proper cup of tea. "Might I trouble you for some sugar?"

The girl was quicker to answer than either of the muggles. "Listen, you can screech and scream all you want, you can bellow, shout, you can bark for all I care, you can lie on the kitchen floor kicking and screaming, you can refuse to eat anything else, you can _even_ ask nicely, but you are not, I repeat, _not_ under any circumstances going to be getting sugar."

During this little speech, Mr. McGonagall developed something of a coughing fit. Apparently he had succeeded in catching whatever illness it was that Mrs. McGonagall had.

Mrs. McGonagall frowned slightly while herself attempting to answer. "We no longer keep sugar in the house."

Dippet nodded despite his lack of understanding. Not caring for the strong tea, but not wanting to appear impolite by not drinking it, Dippet sought something else to soften the taste. "Milk, perchance?"

"Today is Sunday. The dairy fairy does not come today."

Confused Dippet looked from the girl to the adults and back again. "The dairy fairy?"

"He is a fairy that comes while you are sleeping and leaves milk on your doorstep. Like the tooth fairy puts tuppence under your pillow if you leave your teeth for him. Only the tooth fairy never gives me anything because _I_ have a problem with sharing. My teeth are mine and when they come out, I swallow them so no one else can have them."

"How…charming."

The girl certainly had taken to talking again. However, it seemed she only spouted senseless nonsense. Or worse.

Mr. McGonagall said something that made equally little sense. "The milkman doesn't deliver on Sunday."

"I see…" No, he really didn't. He was aware however that muggles believed the moon to be made of cheese, so he thought it best to leave it at that.

Mr. McGonagall jovially went on. "Yesterday, someone, I'm not going to name any names, but _someone_ found the milk and the cream on the front steps and drank it all before anyone else woke up."

"That was me!" The girl excitedly supplied. "I was the someone! It is okay though, it was not hoarding. I did not save it for later, I drank it _all_ right then!"

The muggle gentleman tweaked the girl's nose. "Nope, hoarding it is not."

Mrs. McGonagall did not look amused. "You are not helping this."

Mr. McGonagall shrugged. "Well, it _isn't_ hoarding."

Feeling he had suffered through enough of the tea and pleasantries, Dippet decided to take the jarvey by the tail and get to the reason of his visit. "It is essential that the girl return to Hogwarts in September. She is exceptionally powerful and her training must not be delayed any further."

Mrs. McGonagall frowned at him. The hand without the flaming stick rested on the girl. "We have decided to leave the decision of returning or not with _Minerva._"

"With who?" It took Dippet a moment to realize who she was talking about. "Oh the girl. You call her Minerva?"

"You didn't really think that we would keep calling her 'Kitten'? It's all right to name a pet that, or to use it as a pet name, but hardly appropriate for a given name."

How was he to know what a muggle would or would not do? "The girl really must retur-"

The woman clearly didn't like the idea of the girl leaving. Not that he was really surprised given the state of affairs when she had last been to Hogwarts. "Why do you do that? Why do you always call _Minerva_ 'the girl'?' Why don't you ever use her name?"

Dippet ignored the question and continued to caution the muggles. "The powers of a witch or wizard are not a matter to be trifled with. A child must be taught to properly harness –"

This time it was Mr. McGonagall who intruded upon his speech. "We are leaving the decision with Kitten – er Minerva. If you want her to go back, she is the one you need to be convincing."

When he looked at her, the girl wore quite the smug look. Rather apprehensive, he questioned her. "Didn't you enjoy your time at Hogwarts?"

The girl thought about it for a moment before replying. "I like bacon."

That may well be, but it had nothing to do with his question. "Do you want to return to Hogwarts?"

The girl wasted no time in replying this time. "Maybe."

'Maybe' was better than the 'no' he had been led to expect. "Maybe? The Hogwarts Express does not depart London until the first of September. You do not need to give me your answer today. If you need more time to decide, I can send another owl to await your reply."

The girl looked at him puzzled. "Send the owl, but I do not need more time. I said no."

Dippet frowned. "You said 'maybe'. I distinctly heard you."

The girl frowned back. "'Maybe' means the same thing as 'no', but you use it when you do not want the other person to make a fuss."

Dippet began to try to reason with her. "You cannot be a proper witch without attending Hogwarts."

"I do not want to be a witch. I want to be a swan." In the silence that ensued, the girl added, "Or maybe a butterfly."

A swan or a butterfly? Splendid. Simply splendid. "But you cannot be a swan or a butterfly."

"Yes, I can. If I can be a cat, why can I not be a swan?"

It appeared Master Shackleton was correct, the girl was…damaged. Reasoning with her had always been and always would be utterly hopeless. Still Dippet needed to try something. The muggle woman looked highly affronted as he went to his old fallback. "You know at Hogwarts, children are given all the sweets they desire."

The girl's angry glare and the way she nestled into the woman told him she was unimpressed. Dippet tried to think of something else that would excite the interest of a child. While he didn't actually approve of the practice for girls- "Wouldn't you like to learn to fly on a broom?"

"Swans and butterflies fly _without_ a broom! Besides I can already fly!"

Standing, the girl prodded the muggle man. He rose and taking firm hold of both her hands, began to spin her around the room. Dippet had to stoop to avoid having the girl's feet collide with his head.

"Stop that, the both of you, before you break-" The muggle woman's prophetic words died out as the girl's feet met with a lamp that, unlike Dippet, failed to stoop.

She continued glaring disapprovingly at the pair until the broken lamp reassembled itself, presumably at the girl's behest. Then she turned her disapproval upon Dippet. "She does not wish to return and we have no intentions of sending her against her will. I have to say, I was not favorably impressed with the goings on I witnessed at your school."

Dippet protested to no effect. "This isn't the way it happens! She has to go. She _cannot_ not go. She simply must be sent!" Seeing his words were impressing no one, he tried a different tack. "How do you expect to become a swan here amongst muggles?"

Mr. McGonagall supplied the answer this time. "She is a bit old to start ballet, but we found a little school in town that will take her. She is going to study there a few afternoons a week. They have a yearly production of 'Swan Lake'."

It wasn't that Dippet _wanted_ her to return – he most certainly did not. He already saw more than enough of her in the Visions that had been plaguing him for years. It was simply that she did return. He knew that she did.

These muggles, like all muggles, were beyond reason. "That is a few afternoons a week. What of the rest of her day? Surely, she is to have some other schooling?"

"We weren't really planning anything else. A couple of years ago, we did try to enroll her in a day school nearby, but things didn't work out."

Dippet seized on those words by the muggle man. "Didn't work out? How so?"

Though she tried to explain it, Mrs. McGonagall didn't seem pleased that Mr. McGonagall had brought up the topic. "She…unsettled some of the teachers. My husband would drop her at the school on his way into work. It's a quite lovely school –experienced teachers, wonderful programs, but Minerva didn't care to stay. She prefers to stay in our company. As soon as my husband would drive off-"

Dippet's ascension to the position of Headmaster of Hogwarts had been a political appointment. After the affair at the Wizengamot, the Ministry and the then Minister had wished to be rid of him. As such, he had never actually spent any time instructing students. Previous to the girl's mother, Dippet had had little, if any, exposure to children, but he had once heard a muggle adage which he had firmly come to believe in; namely that children should be neither seen nor heard. Listening to the girl again interrupt the conversation of the adults, it was clear biting was not the only ill habit of hers that needed to be worked on.

"-I would pop into the back of the car…" As she spoke, the girl disapporated from her seat and apparated to be standing behind Mr. McGonagall with her hands covering his eyes. "…and say 'Guess who!'"

Mr. McGonagall laughed. "All the teachers would go wild. They would be all over looking for her, thinking they had lost her."

When the muggle gentleman reached behind to flip the girl over his shoulder, Dippet was incredibly startled. He didn't like the way the man's hands began to roam over the girl's body, tickling her. He found the muggle's conduct wholly inappropriate, but by the sound of the girl's shrill laughter, she seemed not to mind.

"Hogwarts has wards that will prevent her from leaving, but what is to keep her from attempting to leave this other school in the same manner as the former?"

The obviousness of Mrs. McGonagall's answer did not sit well with Dippet. "Unlike the day school, or your school, she actually wants to go to this one."

Dippet spoke to the woman. "You really must reconsider. As you have just pointed out, attempting to muggle school her is not in anyone's best interests. She must receive proper schooling. If she has not been enrolled in school these past years, what has she been doing?"

With some difficulty, Mrs. McGonagall made herself heard over the girl's continued cacophony. "I keep her with me during the day. I am a homemaker."

Dippet frowned. "Have you been doing that long? Home making, I mean."

"Yes," the muggle woman nodded. "I suppose you could say that is what I have been doing since we married."

Dippet found the woman's answer to be unsettling. Had she not told Madame Bagnold that she was not employed? If she had lied about that, what else might she have lied about? Dippet was beginning to find himself less and less comfortable with the girl's current situation. "Is that wise, or even safe? For the girl, to be kept at a construction site all day with you while you are building houses? What of her edification?"

The tone in his questions must have gotten through to Mr. McGonagall, he ceased with his tickling and exchanged a look with his wife. Both of the muggles seemed to find his concern far too amusing.

It was Mrs. McGonagall who finally managed to respond. "We have been home schooling her in all the classics."

"The classics?"

"We try not to discourage her from Wizarding customs. We want her to have an appreciation of your – her culture. She has lessons in Latin, Greek, literature, art-both painting and sculpting, calligraphy, music – the piano, the lyre, the flute…"

Dippet was unclear how, if at all, those things related to Wizarding culture.

Mr. McGonagall sounded disappointed as he added his thoughts. "I wanted to teach her archery and discus throwing, but my wife put her foot down." He spoke his next few words as though it made up for the former. "We do have a Frisbee."

Hearing the front door open without the preamble of a bell ringing, given that the girl and the two muggles were still seated before him, Dippet suspected it was the girl's way of indicating to him that the audience was over.

It was only when he heard a voice in the hall that he recalled that there was another muggle living here, at least part of the time.

"Mum! Dad! Did you leave for church already?"

The existence of Thomas McGonagall had somehow slipped Dippet's mind. Again coughing, Mrs. McGonagall rose to greet her son as he entered the room.

"Darling, I thought you were going to be driving back to school with your friends this morning?"

"They didn't want to wait until after church to head back so I told them to go ahead without me. Dad can drop me off at the station on his way to work tomorrow and I can take the train in. Why are you still in your dressing gown, Mum? Are you still not feeling well?" Looking around the room, the boy amended the question. "Why is everyone in their dressing gowns?"

Mr. McGonagall ignored the young man's questions in favor of his own. "Wouldn't you have preferred to skip church and go back to the university? I know if it were me, I would have preferred-" Seeing the boy's disapproving expression, Mr. McGonagall gave up with a shrug.

Dippet stood to be reintroduced to the young man. Mrs. McGonagall seemed almost hesitant as she introduced them. "Thomas, we have a visitor. This is Mr. Dippet."

"How do you do, sir. Very pleased to make your acquaintance." The boy looked anything except pleased.

"Make my acquaintance again you mean. We have met before, at Hogwarts."

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that your pig has warts."

"No," Dippet corrected him. "Hogwarts. I am the Headmaster at Hogwarts." The boy appeared to be struggling with this information. Dippet prodded him to help him remember. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you attended my school for a few weeks a few years back."

"Hog warts? I've never been near your pig and I haven't any warts." The muggle boy's eyes strayed to the scratching post the girl had overturned. "Where is the cat? Has the cat been back?"

The girl's relative unobtrusiveness came to an end as the two children began to squabble. "I _am_ the cat!"

"Stop saying that! You aren't a cat! You are a little girl!"

"I am a girl cat!"

"Are not!"

The muggle woman interceded. "Thomas, darling, go and get ready for church."

"Am too!"

"Are not!"

"Am too!"

"**Are not!"**

The young man and the girl kept up their shouting until the muggle woman sent him from the room. "Go on, darling, get ready to go to church with your father."

After the boy left, the muggle woman explained. "Thomas doesn't…remember the time he spent at Hogwarts."

Dippet frowned. "Master Shackleton oblivi-removed his memories?"

He suspected that the woman didn't quite understand what he was asking, but she understood enough of it to assuage his concerns about Master Shackleton's possible misconduct.

"Thomas remembered right after he returned….about some things at least. After a few days, he seemed to forget more and more of the time he was away. When we try to ask him about it now…trying to get him to remember, it just seems to confuse him." The woman looked at him intently. "Is that…something that we should be concerned about?"

Dippet thought about it for a moment before answering. "Not at all. It is a fairly common muggle response to magic. Nor would it help that since he truly is a muggle, the anti-muggle wards at the school would have been in effect against him during his entire stay at the school. You would simply do well to stop mentioning it around him."

"Will you all be going to church?" asked Dippet, curious.

"No," Mrs. McGonagall shook her head. "We alternate. I went last week, so this week I will stay home with Minerva."

"I like it better when Mum goes." As the girl continued speaking, Dippet noticed Mr. McGonagall was now shaking _his_ head and trying to get her attention. "When Mum stays we paint and play, which I like, but when Daddy stays, we get to go to the derby, which I like better."

"What have I told you about taking her to the races?"

Mr. McGonagall stopped shaking his head and responded with a weak smile to his wife's glare. "But she likes them! It's perfectly harmless." The muggle man turned to him for support. "Don't you think so, Mr. Dippet?"

Not quite following, Dippet smiled wanly. "While I fail to see the attraction, neither do I see what harm there could be in watching hats compete."

The girl scoffed at him. "Not hats! Horses! And you don't just watch! I mean, you _can_ go just to watch, but there is no excitement, no sense of commitment in just watching. You need to have an involement-"

"-Involvement-" Mr. McGonagall's interruption to correct the girl's last word confirmed Dippet's suspicion that the girl was repeating someone else's speech.

Repeating the correction, she went on. "-Involvement, to make it interesting. You _need_ to bet. When we go, we each get a tuppence to put on whichever horse we want."

"Does it have to stay on for the whole race?" Seeing their confused expressions, Dippet clarified. "The tuppence that you put on the horse, does it have to stay on for the whole race to win?"

Ignoring his question, the girl went on. "And we get all the cotton candy we can eat so long as we stop before we vomit." The girl frowned. "Sometimes that is hard to guess at."

"How...charming."

At his wife's continued glare, Mr. McGonagall put his head down repentantly. "Candy is bad for you and we shouldn't go to the racecourse anymore."

The girl looked only mildly alarmed. "Wait, you are just saying that, right? We are still going to keep going, but not tell Mum. Right?" Clearly the girl's skill at deception had not improved much. That would come later.

The man tried to give a subtle nod, but his wife caught sight of it. If Dippet didn't know better, he would almost think Mrs. McGonagall's grimace as she banished her husband from the room was a smile. "Don't you think it time you got dressed for church as well?"

Given the relative quiet and the charm he had used earlier, Dippet could hear the two muggle gentlemen talking in the other room.

"Why doesn't Minerva have to go to church?"

"Because we don't know what religion the people Kitten came from had. After all, they named her after a Roman goddess."

"Why don't you ask them? Isn't one of them here now with Mum?"

"Fix your tie, Thomas. There are two things you never ask a man about; his politics or his religion." After a contemplative pause, the elder of the two gentlemen added, "Or his undergarments, so three things. It just does not make for polite conversation."

Dippet could hear the grimace in Thomas McGonagall's voice. "Well I don't care! You should make her come to church too. She is ours now and she ought to be like us, not them!"

Mrs. McGonagall's attempts from this room to be heard by them in the other room seemed painfully loud to Dippet's augmented ears. "YOU HAD BETTER GET GOING OR YOU WILL BE LATE!"

"We're off…just as soon as I find my bowler!"

"IT'S IN HERE! PEEVES HAS IT!"

Thankfully the shouting ended once the man came into the room. The 'bowler' turned out to be a hat of sorts, which the poltergeist was wearing.

"Ah, I'll need that for a bit, but you can have it when I get back." Placing the hat on his head, the muggle turned to his wife. "And not to worry, love, with the new car I shan't ever be late to anything again." Excitedly he turned to Dippet. "Did you see it in the driveway? Aston Martin, DB series. One of only fifteen made. It can reach speeds of up to one hundred and ten kilometers per hour. Same model won the Spa 24 last year!"

Given that not a word of that had made sense to him, Dippet just smiled weakly.

Mrs. McGonagall didn't seem to be nearly as excited as Mr. McGonagall. "That car is going to be the death of you! I don't want you driving even half that speed with either of the children in the car!"

"Not to worry. I'll let Thomas drive. He's a much better driver than I anyway."

That did not seem a suitable substitution for Mrs. McGonagall. "There is no need for anyone to drive. It is only a five minute walk to church."

The girl, though she wasn't going, began to protest. "I should drive! I am a much better driver than Thomas is!"

"That you are, my pet! That you-" The man's smile stopped at the look of wrath on his wife's face.

This time, there was no mistaking her anger. "You had better _not_ be letting our eleven-year-old daughter drive that car!"

Suddenly the muggle man became quite eager to get to church. "We really should get going. Come along, Thomas. Don't want to be late!"

With their departure, Dippet found himself alone with the two ladies, neither of whom seemed at all pleased at his continued presence. There passed several awkward minutes before the muggle woman made an inquiry that required Dippet to speak. "Will you be staying for lunch?"

"I shall depart as soon as you agree to send the gir- _Minerva_ back to Hogwarts in the fall."

Mrs. McGonagall stood stalwart. "I'll put out another place for lunch."

While Mrs. McGonagall set about preparing lunch the very time consuming muggle way, the girl occupied herself at the kitchen table with a set of oil crayons. Not having any inclination to help either, Dippet peered around at all the muggle contraptions in the kitchen. He stared at the china cabinet for several minutes before he realized something was wrong with it. Realizing what it was that was wrong took several more. Moving close enough to see behind it, he finally discovered the problem; it was pressed not against a wall, but a door - a door with many, many locks on it.

"Where does that door lead?"

The woman glanced up at the question, but her eyes returned downward before she answered. "It doesn't lead anywhere. It's a cupboard."

A cupboard with four…five…Dippet counted six locks and a cabinet pressed against it? "What do you keep in it?"

The woman was reluctant to answer, but the girl had no such qualms. "That is the doll cupboard. All of my dolls go there when I am not playing with them - which is always."

Unpleased, Dippet questioned the muggle. "You allow her neither sweets nor toys?"

"I would allow her candy if only she would stop biting the dentists! As for the dolls…we keep them locked up for her safety." The muggle woman seemed displeased to have this all coming out. "One of the dolls tried to attack her in her sleep! She has a scar where it bit her and she refuses to sleep alone in her room for fear of them."

Recalling the time the girl had set a room full of serpents upon herself, Dippet was not entirely surprised by the woman's revelation. The girl had always had a self-loathing streak. He was surprised however when without even a wave of her hand, the girl moved the cabinet and unlocked all the locks in order to access the cupboard.

Seeing his questioning glance, as she took out a few of the dolls, the girl explained. "They only bother me when I am alone sleeping."

Again, not entirely surprising. When a young witch or wizard was in a sleep state at times their magic could become unfettered. While the presence of others nearby could serve to curb such meanderings, if left alone it wasn't unheard of for a powerful enough individual to imbue nearby objects with excess energies. She should in time outgrow the habit.

The faces of the dolls she handed to him were grotesquely distorted. Dippet felt confident that no doll maker could have carved the assorted wooden and porcelain faces into such expressions of rage and fury.

As the girl began to list off the names of several, Dippet's sense of foreboding was further enhanced. "This one is Augustus, this is Lycurgus, this is Malfoy…"

"Why do they want to hurt you?"

Returning to the table, the girl shrugged seemingly indifferent. "I am alive and they are not…but they would like to be."

Dippet was trying to follow the logic. "And if they kill you…they can be alive again?"

"Again? The girl looked up at him with both confusion and annoyance in her eyes. "No, they are just dolls; they cannot be alive." Back at her seat, she added almost as an afterthought, "They are just really bitter about it."

Stepping closer, Dippet for the first time took a look at what it was she was drawing.

All the talk of Hogwarts seemed to have brought to the forefront of her mind stories Mr. Hagrid had no doubt told her. Having herself never arrived by boat to Hogwarts, it seemed clear her latest work was inspired by a tale Mr. Hagrid had told of his own crossing as a first year. Though Dippet could not himself recall the details of that night, from the picture it seemed quite clear that the evening in question had played host to quite a tempest. The girl had taken the time to painstakingly depict a seemingly infinite supply of raindrops and with them she had doused all the crossing students who huddled in windswept poses. Despite the shortness of the voyage, the small boats had been exposed to enough rain that it had begun to pool in their bottoms in a hazardous manner.

Beside one of the numerous boats there was something small and gray submerged beneath the water. What it was supposed to be, Dippet was unable to discern. Perhaps Hagrid had caught sight of one of the mercreatures that night and relayed it to her? Without enchanting the stationary to move, he could not be sure.

To Dippet's eyes, the years had not done much to improve her drawing ability. Her proportions were completely wrong; Mr. Hagrid more than dwarfed the other children on the parchment. He seemed to be using an entire vessel for himself. None of the depicted children were even remotely identifiable as the classmates Mr. Hagrid had-however temporarily-been schooled amongst. Having encountered many of them in her own brief stint as a student, the girl should have been able to more accurately portray them. Also the groundskeeper, who traditionally accompanied the children, was not to be found.

Despite the many shortcomings of her work, Dippet found himself drawn to picture that the girl had drawn. "May I have that?" He wasn't sure why – if it was that he wanted to have some small thing, some memento to remember her by, if, as the muggles emphatically stated, she would not be returning to Hogwarts and hence he would never see her again. Or was it that there was something to the picture itself? Something more that was not quite right about it. Something that if given enough time, he might be able to discover.

The girl scowled at him in response. "It is mine."

"Yes, I know that, but may I have it?"

She looked down at the picture and then back up at him. When she picked it up off of the table, Dippet for the briefest of moments thought that she really would hand it to him. He really should have known better. Instead, she handed it to the non-thing she had summoned to sit beside her. 'Peeves,' as the creature was referred to, immediately and gleefully scribbled all over the paper with a black marker.

Dippet didn't care. He still wanted it. There was something about it. It would be incredibly difficult to do because the two were essentially the same being, but he believed it to be worth it to take the paper to try to separate the work of the two. "I should still like to have it"

Again the girl shook her head.

"May I at least look at it again?"

"It is mine!"

Surprisingly, the muggle woman attempted to intercede on his behalf. "Minerva, let him look at it."

"But it is _mine!_"

"I know dear, but just to look."

Instead the girl took the picture back from the poltergeist and crumbled it into a ball. Even then she would not share it with him. She put it into her mouth and tried to swallow it whole.

"Kitten, now really!"

After getting the girl to spit the wad of paper out, the muggle woman deposited it into Dippet's hand. Standing there, holding the wadded, saliva stained piece of paper, Dippet had an epiphany; what was it he was trying to accomplish here? He didn't actually desire the girl's return to Hogwarts. On the contrary. Were she never to return to Hogwarts, she would not be there to do all the wretched things that he had foreseen.

If the muggles wished her to remain and she wished to remain with the muggles, far be it from him to interfere.

Somehow, whatever might be in that paper didn't seem all that important now. Tilting his hand to allow the remnants of the girl's 'art' to fall to the table, Dippet spoke. "I really must be returning to the castle. I will have another owl sent."

The muggle woman tried to mask her pleasure at the unexpected windfall. "Won't you at least stay for lunch?"

"I think n-"

He was interrupted as the front door again opened. "-Where's my little heathen!"

Rather than walk or run to the door, the girl disapparated from the table with a pop. When Thomas and Mr. McGonagall entered the room, the girl was hanging off the older man's back. Not for the first time Dippet was struck by how young the girl's conduct was. But then, he supposed she could afford to be. Themises were known to have a far longer lifespan than most witches and wizards. While he had noticed himself winding down since reaching his bicentennial, Mnemosyne though she would have been roughly the same chronological age as him, had she not immolated herself, would have been in the prime of her life.

The idea also struck Dippet that the castle's anti-Muggle wards may have caused some permanent damage to the older Muggle gentleman. Though the girl was literally hanging off of him and not even bothering to attempt to stifle her cackling, Mr. McGonagall spent several minutes looking for and calling out to her.

"Kitten, where are you? Now where did my little kitten wander off to? Is she hiding under the table? No. On top of one of the cupboards? No. Now where could she be?"

When the muggle finally happened to notice her arms around his neck, he deposited her into her abandoned seat. "Lunch is ready, love."

The girl spoke up as soon as the muggle woman began putting out plates of pasta. "You forgot to put bacon in there."

"No," the muggle woman corrected her, "I didn't forget."

"Well there is not any in here. At Hogwarts, they have bacon, bacon, bacon."

"Does this look like Hogwarts?"

"Not so much." After taking a moment, the girl offered a suggestion. "I could add a moat!"

At Dippet's sputtering, the McGonagall boy spoke up. "You mustn't listen to her. She makes up all kinds of outlandish stories about things that never could or would happen. Do you know she claims that before coming here she dined on nothing but sweets! No one would be so irresponsible as to let her do that."

"He did!" The girl pointed straight at him. "He had boxes and boxes of candy sent to my room, whole stacks, so I would never be hungry."

All eyes were on him expectantly. Dippet knew it simply would not do to admit the truth to these muggles. "I certainly did no such thing."

"You did!" Thankfully, the girl didn't argue the point. She abashedly returned to the side of the muggle woman. "I thought you did…"

"I told you she made that up! Just like everything else she says!"

"Hush now, Thomas." Mrs. McGonagall reprimanded him while fretfully looking at the girl.

Dippet wasn't so sure Mr. McGonagall believed him. The look he threw Dippet's way before lifting the girl up was somewhat telling even before the muggle's words.

"I for one prefer to believe you any day! Stacks of candy as high and as far as the eye can see- that's the life for me!"

As soon as the muggle returned her to her seat, the girl stood back up again. "I am done."

The muggle woman sighed. "Even if you don't care to eat, you will stay at the table until everyone else finishes."

The girl sunk into her chair sulkily, but made no further attempt to leave. She soon began to hum and to entertain herself she made the elbowed pasta on her plate stand on end and move to the tune of her song.

With her occupied, the muggle woman turned her attentions to her real child. "Thomas, go wash your hands before you sit down."

_"The saints go marching one by one. Hurrah! Hurrah!"_

For the same cause, the muggle woman soon chased her husband from the room. As he could clearly not be trusted to actually do as he was told, she followed after him.

_"The saints go marching one by one. Hurrah! Hurrah!"_

Dippet was so enthralled watching the macaroni pieces move about, he failed at first to notice the muggle boy's return. It was the odd almost choked noise that came from the boy's throat that caused Dippet to turn round to him. In the closer of his unwashed hands, the boy carried two slices of bread. But it was the item in his other hand that, albeit briefly, startled Dippet's memory. The large kitchen blade was quite unlike the sword of Godric Gryffindor and yet it was in ways similar enough. From his position behind the girl, the muggle bought the blade down with enough force to bury the tip far enough into the wood of the table to allow it to stand on its own. He laid one slice of bread on top of the pasta and mashed it down with the palm of his hand. As he flipped the plate over to add the second slice to the bottom, a few pieces fell to the floor where they continued their dance. The boy ground the still moving pieces into the floor with his heel before retrieving the knife. Realizing this was nothing like the scene that had once played out between Mr. Hagrid and the boy, but simply that the boy had required the knife to cut the sandwich in half, Dippet regained his composure.

_"The little one stops to tie his gum." _The girl hadn't even batted an eye. "Make the little triangles that I like!"

"How are you supposed to ask?"

The girl thought about the question a moment before repeating herself. "Make the little triangles that I like."

Thomas McGonagall frowned. "What's the magic word?"

"Accio!" The girl readily supplied a magic word, but it didn't seem to be the one the muggle boy was looking for.

"'Please!' 'Please!' The magic word is 'please!' You have to say 'please!' 'Accio' isn't a real word!" The muggle child looked very near to desperate as he twirled a piece of his hair between his fingers. A few strands came out in the twisting. "If you eat your lunch like a good little _girl,_ maybe I will take you to go see a picture show this afternoon."

"The Wizard of Oz!"

"No! Not that ridiculous movie again! Witches and wizards don't exist!"

Dippet snorted indignantly, but the boy didn't seem to notice.

"They are just made up. Nothing in that movie is real. Besides you've already seen it at least a dozen times."

"Two dozen!" the girl corrected him.

The children's bantering was beginning to grate on Dippet.

"Well you _can't_ see it again because its an old movie. They stopped showing it years ago! It doesn't play _anywhere_ anymore."

"Lots of times when I go to the pictures, the new reel doesn't work and they have to show an old one."

Seemingly choosing to ignore the girl's comments, the boy produced the paper the other muggle had been looking at that morning. "Anna Karenina is playing at the theatre in town."

The older pair had at last returned. "I think a movie is a fine idea, but Thomas, darling, don't you think that one might be a bit inappropriate for a child Minerva's age?"

"It's a historical drama." The younger McGonagall countered.

"Your mother's right." Taking the paper to look it over himself, the older muggle became excited. "Let's go see Abbott and Costello meet the Ghosts – it has Dracula, Frankenstein's monster, and a wolfman!"

Mrs. McGonagall sighed. "Is it really any wonder our daughter won't sleep in her own bed? What about a nice Shirley Temple movie?"

Mr. McGonagall had other ideas. "Why don't we let our guest decide? Mr. Dippet, what kind of picture would you like to see?"

Thankfully the muggle woman saved him from having to answer. "Actually, I believe our guest was planning to leave after lunch."

"Oh, say that is too bad." To Dippet, Mr. McGonagall looked to think nothing of the sort.

"And, I was thinking just the children would have an outing." Mrs. McGonagall paused meaningfully. "There are a few things around the house that could use a little looking after."

The elder Mr. McGonagall began to…there was no other word for it, whine. "But I want to go to the movies! Can't we just get one of the neighborhood boys to trim the lawn? We haven't gone out to a picture in ages!"

The girl tugged on his sleeve. "You and I went yesterday, after Mum went out. Don't you remember?"

"I wasn't referring to the lawn. I meant upstairs…in the bedroom…"

Young Mr. McGonagall wore a horrified expression as he made the connection. "Mum!"

But the girl and the elder Mr. McGonagall remained blissfully unaware. "I can hang those frames for you anytime – this movie is playing today only!"

Mrs. McGonagall seemed to have had enough of her husband's obliviousness. "Fine. Go to the movie. Maybe I can get one of the neighborhood boys to take care of things in the bedroom too."

His wife's snapping seemed to get the muggle to finally catch on. "Oh. Oh! Yes, I suppose you are right. You children go along and have fun."

"I'm not taking her out like that. Her feet have soot on them and her nails have crayon under them. And _people _don't wear dressing gowns out of the house!"

"Scourgify!" Despite possessing no wand, to Dippet's eyes the girl's casting succeeded in removing all traces of grime. The muggle boy's eyesight must have been keener for he disagreed.

"If you want me to take you to a picture, you have to take a bath, but a quick one – no staying in there for hours."

"All right," the girl agreed. In all the debate as to which picture to see, no one other than Dippet seemed to take note that the girl had never actually eaten any of the food before her. "But you have to come with me."

Highly disconcerted, Dippet turned to the muggle woman for explanation. "He goes into the water closet with her when she bathes?"

"Water closet? Ah, no, not _in_ with her! One of us always stays outside to play 'Marco Polo' with her. It is a regular Wizarding custom..." Seeing his look of confusion, she sighed. "I take it that isn't a regular Wizarding custom?"

Not that it mattered; the boy was rebuffing the girl's request. "I have better things to do with my time than sit outside the door yelling 'Marco'."

The girl laughed in his face. "No, you don't. Now give me a hippogriff ride."

The boy's reply was sharper this time. "_It's a piggy back ride!_ There are no such things as hippogriffs and no such things as hippogriff rides! Call it by its right name or you don't get one!"

Dippet was astounded to see that after taking a moment to consider her opponent, the girl yielded. "_May I have a piggyback ride?_"

A moment after they took off for elsewhere, Dippet heard a door slam and the girl bellow, "**Thanks for the hippogriff ride!"**

Over the sounds of the running water, Thomas McGonagall could be heard to be pounding on the door that the girl had just closed in his face. **"It wasn't a hippogriff ride! It wasn't!"**

The sound of the two children squabbling was a very clear reminder to Dippet of one of the numerous reasons why he had never himself desired to have children.

The girl would not lower herself to respond to his particular protest, but she did shout back to him the word 'Polo!' at regular intervals. Eventually, in line with the girl's earlier estimates of the usefulness of his time, the boy's shouts changed to a steady stream of 'Marco's'.

Muggles were, to Dippet's mind, a most peculiar breed of creature.

Though the door to the water closet never reopened, the girl reappeared shortly after with the distinctive pop that customarily accompanied an apparition. In place of her dressing gown she now wore a muggle dress. Her hair was slightly damp and no longer in its incredibly elaborate braids. As the muggle woman set about brushing out her long hair, the girl – seemingly having missed the purpose of having been sent to have a bath – began unpacking her art materials to begin again.

Unawares, the young man could still be heard to call out 'Marco'.

Looking at the paper before the girl, Dippet realized it was the one from before. It possessed no wrinkles or tears, it was in fact wholly unsullied, but it was the same paper from before – of that he was sure. Even the marks of the poltergeist were absent.

Noticing the direction of his attention, the girl, followed by her poltergeist, offered a hiss of displeasure. Taking that as his cue to be going, Dippet rose. "I will take my leave of you now."

Looking at the poltergeist, Dippet took his wand from his robes. "I can, or at least I can try, to dispose of that for you."

"No," the muggle woman shook her head. "Leave Peeves. It's good having someone around for Minerva to play with. Most of the other children in the neighborhood…" It took the woman a minute to settle on words to end her sentence. "…aren't the right age to play with her."

"As you wish. I will send you a new owl as soon as I get back to Hogwarts."

"Really, you don't have to! I….I don't think the owls care for it here – the climate…or some such thing. It really isn't necessary to send another of the poor things."

With a wicked look, the girl glanced up from her latest work of art to disagree with the muggle woman. "Do send more. I so enjoy them."

The girl's words and the muggle woman's chagrined look led Dippet to a horrifying realization.

With one last look back at the girl, Dippet made his way from the house.

Still he wondered; could it all really be made to end this way? Could the girl be made to live out the rest of her unnaturally long life as a muggle? Never again to be a part of the Wizarding world? And could the events that he had foreseen really be averted in this way?

Facing the house from the outside, Armando Dippet raised his wand and began casting the 'Fidelius Charm.' He meant to seal them in to protect them from interference. In that way he could prevent Mr. Riddle from making attempts to seek the girl out to be further tainted by her, and he could thwart Mr. Moody's predilection for meddling. With the enchantment, he could be certain that so long as he lived and kept the secret no one of magic would be able to discover the people abiding here…

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Stepping out of the pensive, trying to think on all the things that he had just seen, Harry Potter felt completely and utterly overwhelmed.

He had a niggling feeling that there was some thing, or things, that he had missed.

He was still struggling to find words, any words, when Professor Dumbledore abruptly left, taking his pensive with him.

"I trust I will be seeing you tomorrow for your legilmency lessons, Harry."

Harry nodded, but Professor Dumbledore had already departed.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Albus Dumbledore knew that Harry would have questions, so very many questions, but he could not bring himself to stay. He needed to leave, to be alone to see what he had begun through to its conclusion.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Facing the house from the outside, Armando Dippet raised his wand and began casting the 'Fidelius Charm.' He meant to seal them in to protect them from interference. In that way he could prevent Mr. Riddle from making attempts to seek the girl out to be further tainted by her, and he could thwart Mr. Moody's predilection for meddling. With the enchantment, he could be certain that so long as he lived and kept the secret no one of magic would be able to discover the people abiding here.

He meant only to keep others from interfering…

Instead, he was sealing them all in to their respective dooms.

Everything had all seemed better than he had the right to hope for, so perfect. The girl was happy, well taken care of, loved even. The only part that gave him pause was Thomas McGonagall.

Years later, in hindsight, Armando Dippet would curse his own lack of foresight. He would wonder why he hadn't paused enough at Thomas McGonagall. There were portents, early indicators, but he had glossed over them.

Years later, he would wonder how it had all gone to hell so quickly.

_Finis_


End file.
